#why was there a dick shaped blanket covered in nuts.

[charmac]

I do not think I'll ever get over how heavy handed the Inflates set decor was

[darwin-xf]

Love is a Verb

His dick knew things.

In general, thinking with your little head not your big one got a bad rap.

But for him? The opposite seemed to apply.

Of course he’d been mortified when he sprung to life in her hand the night before, with Scully in full on doctor mode, acting so clinical and detached. While he was so very very exposed.

A wave of anger arose in the wake of his humiliation. At her. Which wasn’t fair. She was doing him a favor, after all. Examining him, because they were stuck in a crap motel in the middle of nowhere Florida, the day after a hurricane, flights snafued, roads clogged with debris. And him with a sea monster bite on his neck and an angry itchy red rash on his dick to match. She was caring for him, just like she always did. Even though neither one of them was exactly comfortable about the prospect.

But now, considering what that moment of vulnerability had led to, he was glad it happened. And hardly surprised.

And when his big head has been muddled and confused on a night a few weeks before? His dick had shown the way forward. When a different woman had laid her hands on him, slipped her tongue into his mouth.

He didn’t want her. He felt like a block of wood as she kissed him and touched him. And yet he let it happen. His mind filled with a fuzzy gray static as she whispered to him how she needed him, how she’d never stopped loving him, until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him. She opened his pants and he let her, hungry for something she was offering. He would think a lot about that later.

But then his dick was in her mouth. And she worked it, employed all her little tricks. And still it stayed soft.

Until, giving up, she stood. She crossed the room and poured herself a scotch. He tucked his junk in his pants and zipped up. Not even embarrassed.

“You love her,” Diana said, her back to him.

He nodded. “I do.”

“But Fox,” she said, closing the distance between them, sitting down next to him, “She doesn’t know you like I do. There’s so much I want to give you...”

She launched into the pitch he’d heard from her before. Since she returned, she’d been whispering to him whenever she could get him alone, offering him access. “There are so many things we can accomplish together, Fox. Why would you want to keep toiling in the dark when you can shape the future of the human race? You’ve more than earned your seat at the table. And your voice is needed there...”

Though he never really felt engaged in these conversations, his big head listened to what Diana had to say.

But the little one was more persuasive. Not to mention more persistent. The truth was, Scully had been the only one able to get him off for months. Though of course she hadn’t touched him.

His extensive collection of salacious videotapes these days stayed tucked in their hiding places, moldering in their cases. The magazines delivered to his door each month, Penthouse and Hustler and Escort and Razzle and Club, remained stacked on his entryway table, their spines uncracked, their pages unperused. Most with the black no-see-um wrapper still intact.

A fact Scully discovered while visiting his apartment a few weeks before. She turned up on the late side one evening, work on her mind, files in her hand, her body tucked dutifully away in some dark suit.

“Oh that,” he said when she placed her palm on the towering cache of smut, popped an eyebrow in his direction. She had spent enough time in his space to understand that this was a departure from his usual behavior, where his porn was concerned. Whereby he’d rip the covers off the mags as soon as they arrived and leaf through them, looking for anything particularly good. He’d turn down the corners of memorable pages then leave them piled haphazardly around his place: on end tables, under the fishtank, next to his bed.

The explanation was not something he was prepared to share. So he thought fast, and invented something on the fly that seemed remotely plausible. “Yeah, the boys tell me that those are going to be collector's items soon. Print is dead, Scully. Everyone making the switch from atoms to bits and bytes. Paper’s so pulpy and inefficient. I have a book on it somewhere...” He riffled through his bookshelf, glad to escape her excruciating gaze. He plucked out a book and handed her a copy of Being Digital by Nicholas Negroponte. “He’s a smart guy. You should check it out.”

His effort to distract her was in vain. She put the book aside without glancing at the cover and continued to silently cross-examine him. He pretended to be interested in another book he’d pulled at random, but the moment stretched on uncomfortably. "I thought I could get more for them if they remained in pristine condition,” he said as he paged through the book he wasn’t reading. For all he knew he was holding it upside down. “You know how people keep their Star Wars toys in the boxes with the cellophane on?”

She shrugged, unconvinced. But she moved on, willing to let it go. Her stacked heels clacked obnoxiously against his hardwood floors as she slowly made her way into his living room.

He doubted she wanted to know the real reason. Though he was pretty sure he could turn the tables on her if he blurted it out. It would serve her right for the way she roamed around his apartment and let her eyes light on his stuff, storing her little data points in that mind, trying to figure him out. But maybe one day the tea leaves of his pitiable life she seemed so eager to read would finally speak to her. Maybe it would occur to her what was actually going on.

Which was that every time he touched himself, he imagined it was her hand. And he would try to switch things over, open one of his skin mags— his trusty strategy for years when it came to getting his thoughts off his partner and back where they belonged —but it wasn’t working anymore.

He’d listlessly page through the glossies, looking for a promising spread, land on some blowjob scene and eyeball it for a while. But when he got down to business it, was her mouth on him, warm and receptive, her eyes on his face, his hands in her coppery hair. He’d smolder for a while, thinking of her lips, her strong small hands, and always her eyes, then feverishly work himself up. And the magazine, forgotten, would slip away onto the floor.

On the bright side, his inappropriate intrusive fixation on his FBI partner was saving him two hundred bucks a month he used to spend on phone sex. The last time he dialed in he couldn’t even get it up. So he spilled his guts to one of his regular providers, droning on for forty-five minutes about how he had it bad for his partner, all the things she did that made him crazy, the reasons he couldn’t tell her. Realizing even therapy would be cheaper, and feeling like a terrible cliché, he’d quit calling those numbers.

His videos were his last line of defense. Their absorbing input had always been able to capture his attention, so he’d try one of those. It might work for a few minutes, but the real action was behind his eyes. In his mind it was her heels digging in to the small of his back as he plunged into her tight little cunt. She’d be beneath him hot and panting, open her mouth to moan and he’d stuff his fingers in, slide them wetly against her tongue. Soon he’d be picking up the pace... The television would blare fruitlessly in the background, rife with bad dialogue and silicone silo tits and oh babys. The money shot would come and go, unseen by him, and the screen would fade to black.

The reason porn had quit working was simple: in his fantasies, she always comes too. Usually more than once. He’d start slow, imagine he was taking his time kissing his way down her body. That could take a while. Then he’d tease her, rubbing the fat head of his cock up and down her slit. When she begged him to, he’d slip inside her and slam his hips forward. He’d hold there, bottomed out, and kiss her sweet mouth. Then he’d slide it in and out, looking into her eyes, feeling every inch of her.

Soon he’d need to fuck her harder, faster. He’d reach down to tease her clit until she was thrashing and pleading. Then she’d say his name, and her face would change, and she’d come on his dick. He’d watch her ride it out, humming with pleasure as her warm wet circles broke against him and travelled up his body in waves. Till his nuts and his gut and his heart and his throat and his brain were replete with her. Finally he’d come, imagining he was cradled by her hips and rocking, buried deep inside her, spilling his secrets into her ear.

In his dirty busy mind he’d already had her so many places and ways: in showers and motel beds, in cars and elevators, bent over his desk at work, the door unlocked, her skirt bunched around her waist, her drugstore pantyhose dangling from her ankle. Quick or slow or sweet or mean, acrobatic or missionary, rough or tender. Or both. God. Even boring. Just the two of them in his bed, nose to nose under the covers, whispering and giggling and whiling away a Sunday morning.

And the most pathetic and woebegone detail? Sometimes his fantasies contained no sex at all. He wanted to watch a movie with her feet parked in his lap. He wanted to shop for groceries with her and hold her hand on the walk home. To spend a weekend with her on the Vinyard and show her his old high school. He wanted to rub her back when she was sad and play footsie with her under the table during boring budget meetings. He wanted to gather her close and kiss her eyelids and hold her in his arms as she fell asleep. To watch her to rise naked from his bed and pull on his clothes she’d just stripped from his body. On red eye flights he wanted to leave the arm rest up and snuggle with her under those dingy felt blankets. To read to her while she soaked in the tub and find the nooks and hollows of her body where she was ticklish. He wanted to make her giggle, make her laugh, make her cry happy tears. He wanted to make her wet just with his voice. To lay in bed and watch while she got dressed for church. He wanted to kiss her in front of her idiot brother, maybe even slip her a tasteful amount of tongue. To shower with her before work, to soap her up and shampoo her hair. He wanted to stock his fridge with an assortment of her gross non-dairy yogurts.

Scully. Before she’d even descended into his office and introduced herself, he assumed she was a plant. Or a dupe, a patsy. Why else would a promising and talented young agent be conscripted to his lonely, disrespected division? Most likely she’d already agreed to keep tabs on him, to cast his work in a negative light. And even if she hadn’t, he was certain she’d be manipulated, using the lever of her obvious ambition, into doing so. He also suspected, since she’d spent most of her time thus far in the FBI in the lab or the classroom, that she was a house cat. The kind of agent who might hold romantic notions about working in the field, but who would soon balk at the grueling, unpredictable hours, the endless travel, the physical grind. And blanch at the dangers. It’s no kind of life for anybody who wants a life.

By the time their flight touched down in Oregon on that first case, he knew for sure that she was fun to spar with. And all kinds of smart. And even sort of cute. And while it can obviously be helpful to have a partner if things go sideways, he remembers hoping that didn’t happen to them before she washed out and retreated back to the lab. Because he suspected this itty bitty pathologist with zero field experience and impractical footwear? Would be more likely to become a liability than properly cover his flank.

After they’d worked a half dozen cases together, it was fair to say he’d reconsidered the hasty assumptions he’d made about Scully. Which is to say she surprised him at every turn. Except on the couple of occasions when she’d astonished him, leaving him flat-footed and slack-jawed in her wake. Against all odds, he had himself a partner. Which is not to say he fully trusted her. Not yet. And he doubted she’d hang around much longer.

But still. He’d learned that she was game. Skeptical and rational, but up for anything. She never complained about bad food or lumpy beds. And courageous, staring down firearms pushed in her face without blinking. She was fearless and cagy, and could take a punch or dish one out. And in the next moment she could soften, to connect with a suspect or a victim, to care for a child, or for him. She believed deeply in what she was doing. When he bumbled into trouble, which he seemed to have a knack for, she more than had his back. Yet when she’d sided with him and blew off her buddies from the Academy? It wasn’t loyalty to him she was demonstrating, but to the victims. To the truth. Above all, Scully was honest.

In some ways, he knew her so well. Yet all these years later there was there were aspects to her he could only guess at. Scully, he’d come to understand, was a deeply private person. Didn’t give pieces of herself away in idle conversation, like most people do. The fact that he was a trained and skilled profiler didn’t seem to help. In his fevered mind he’d become preoccupied with the things he didn’t know about her. Like how, exactly, does she like to be touched? He thought about that a lot. Is she a morning sex person? (God he hoped so.) Is she loud in bed? Or more quiet and intense? A little repressed, or wild and uninhibited? He could imagine it either way. Is she bossy? Submissive? A little of both? What does she taste like? Does she talk dirty? Will she like it when he does? (Because he definitely does.) How would he tease her? What are her kinks? Does she like it rough? And if he wanted to go down on her for hours, would she be okay with that?

So, yeah. He loved her.

That switch had been flicked for him on a steamy summer evening, a moment when he’d been staring down the real possibility of losing her. She walked away. He followed her, flew out his door like he’d been shot out of a cannon. Stormed up to her where she’d turned to face him in his hallway. Fists clenched, voice raised, he was in full on fighting mode. But he wasn’t fighting her. He was fighting to keep her. So instead of telling her off, as his body language suggested he might, he told her what she meant to him. How he needed her. Things he hadn’t even realized before they came out of his mouth. But all of it the truth.

She’d been girded and resolute, her body rigid and self-contained. But then she broke, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, she softened and stepped into his embrace. He looked in her impossibly blue eyes glinting with tears and realized with dreadful certainty that, Christ, he was going to kiss his partner. More than that, if she let him, he was going to pick her up and carry her back through the door of his apartment and lay her down and fuck her.

That plan had been derailed, but the urge for him remained. And not long after, he gathered his courage and, with all the earnestness he could muster, he’d looked her in the eyes and confessed.

So he’d told her that he loved her. But had he shown her?

That was a thorny question, and it made him uncomfortable to consider it. Because he had to admit that for the most part, he hadn’t.

It was strange, but once his feelings for Scully had shifted, his behavior toward her had become less loving. For one thing, he didn’t let her in on that fact that she’d become the only featured player in his secret late-nite fantasy theatre. But more than that, he found himself especially irritable with her. Dismissive. Self-centered. Sometimes even cold.

When he was looking for an excuse to be angry with her, he told himself a story that she’d rejected him. Because, oh brother. But he’d seen her eyes go wide for an instant, felt her animal panic. She’d pored over his hospital chart and had to know he wasn’t high. So he’d concluded that she didn’t want him. Didn’t love him.

And Fowley’d chosen that inopportune moment to skip back over the pond and make a play for his ass. And though he had no interest in rekindling that relationship, just having her around reminded him of all the reasons it just might be a bad idea to get tangled up sexually with your partner.

More than that, even though he knew that Scully felt insecure because of Diana for several legitimate reasons, he hadn’t bothered to reassure her that she had nothing to worry about. When Diana called him and invited him downstairs for lunch, he’d go. Mostly to be near his files, and to mine the trashcans for cases when her back was turned. But he’d steal away from the bullpen, not tell Scully where he was off to, or why. He let her twist in the wind, wondering who Diana was to him and what her reappearance meant for their partnership.

It would make sense that once you’ve discovered the person you love, the person with whom you want to spend the rest of your days (not even to mention nights), the person who is, quite possibly, it for you? That you would try to make that happen. To lock that down. And yet he seemed to be doing everything but.

Even after she’d been shot by Ritter, and he’d almost lost her again.

And why was that? How to explain this puzzling behavior.

Maybe she didn’t want him, and he was just protecting himself.

The thing was, when he was being honest, he knew that wasn’t true. When he’d been about to kiss her in his hallway, she’d looked confused at first. And then concerned, with real fear flashing in her eyes. But by the time his lips were hovering over hers? They were on the same page. She’d gone molten in his arms, and her mouth awaited his, wet and ready. His body remembered how she’d opened to him, with her sweet breath and her fingers on his neck. He knew in his bones how that encounter would have ended, if not for that stupid fucking bee. Recalled it every chance he got.

As a psychologist, looking at the situation objectively? He’d have to conclude that he was engaging in some epic self-sabotage. Yup.

That night in her apartment when Diana had made her intentions clear, he’d agreed like some kind of docile sheep to join her. To scrum up with the other chosen few at El Rico Air Force Base as Armageddon loomed and save himself at the expense of the rest of humanity. And Scully, even though he wasn’t by her side where he belonged, was still fighting. For him, For them. For the truth. For the future.

And to repay her for her steadfast faith in him and devotion to their work? He was flirting with the one thing that could tear them apart. With inflicting a betrayal that could send her packing for good.

They’d dodged a bullet that night. More than that, they’d gotten their files back, and were free to resume their work. And by any measure he should have felt relieved. But he woke the next morning with a hangover worse than any he’d ever gotten from liquor. He looked in the mirror to shave and realized he couldn’t even meet his own gaze. He was ashamed. And he had to admit that he’d been seduced by Diana after all. Not into bed, but into complacency.

Needing some time and space to think things through, he called Skinner and redeemed a few vacation days. He threw some clothes in a bag and set out driving, not sure of his destination.

On the road, heading north, armed with this new clarity, he mulled things over. How was he going to feel, he wondered, when he succeeded and chased her away? That seemed to be his end game, after all. He knew what he’d do. He’d track her down to wherever she’d absconded to and interrupt her as she attempted to reboot her life. Then, looking desperate and half mad, he’d profess his love.

But it would be too late. She would conclude, quite logically, that he only wanted her when she was leaving. And even if she loved him like he hoped she might, she would not settle for that. Not Scully. And it would be selfish of him to ask her to.

It hit him then, with complete and utter clarity, that he had no idea how to love someone. He’d had bad models and a dearth of life experience in that arena. He knew how he felt. But love is a verb. It’s about what you do. She had taught him that.

He was good with the grand gestures, sure. Tracking her down at the bottom of the world and fishing her out of an enormous alien vessel, for example. Then breathing life back into her and hauling her to the surface while sidestepping rabid lizard monsters who swiped at them with razor-edged claws? Check.

But she needed more. For him to find mundane ways to express his care and concern, perhaps. To show her how much she mattered to him. How much he valued her and all the ways she contributed to their work. To his life. She needed to see that he put her first. She deserved these things. She had earned them. And he knew wouldn’t let him glimpse her secret self, let him know her like he desperately wanted to, until he gave them to her.

He wasn’t sure he could do it. But he knew he had to try.

He decided to start right away. He’d been thinking of her all morning, of course. About celebrating their return by pressing her her against a wall in their office and pushing into her, fucking her breathless and senseless before lunch, to be exact. But he hadn’t thought of her at all, he realized. Not really.

Scully. She’d be there right now, in the basement waiting for him, their first day back where they belonged. Wondering where he could be with half the morning gone. Bewildered as to what might be keeping him from reclaiming his precious turf. Maybe she already talked to Skinner and knew he was taking a few days off. Maybe she’d be worried. Or pissed. Or worse, wondering if he was enjoying a morning lounging in bed with a treacherous leggy brunette.

At the next rest stop, he pulled off and powered up his cell phone. He was relieved to see that he'd missed a call from her. She hadn’t given up on him yet.

Rather than listen to her message, he dialed her back. She answered on the third ring.

“Hey Mulder,” she said.

“Hey Scully,” he said. “Are you in the office?”

“I am,” she said. “Where I thought for sure you would be. Skinner told me you were on vacation. What’s going on?” Her voice was brittle. Defensive.

“I will be, Scully. I’ll meet you there. And soon. But I need to take care of a few things first.”

“Okay,” she said thoughtfully. “What kinds of things?”

“I, ah, I need to get my head straight before coming back. I’ve been mixed up. About some stuff.”

“I see,” she said.

They were both quiet for long seconds.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Me?” The question surprised her. “I’m good. Enjoying the quiet. Working on expense reports. Glad to be out of the bullpen.”

“You sure? You were popular, Scully. I think Agent Kargoll was working up the nerve to ask you out.” Mulder would glare at him as he brought her a donut on a little plate in the mornings. He’d leave it on the corner of the desk if she wasn’t in yet, like an offering to the high priestess.

“Yep,” she said. “I noticed that too. Reassigned in the nick of time...”

“I did my best to scare him off...”

“He was persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“He seemed like a nice enough guy. You could do worse than landing a boyfriend who arrives bearing gifts every morning...”

“I could do better, too.”

“No doubt,” he said. “What would be better than that?”

“Hmm. Why do you ask?”

“Research,” he said.

“Research,” she repeated. “Okay. Let’s see. The bearing gifts is ok. But maybe someone with some sense of what I actually like?”

“Let me jot that down,” he said. She snorted a little laugh. Which warmed him all the way through. “It’s true, Scully, you’re not a big fan of donuts. I benefitted from his crush on you more than you did.”

“I tried to wait until he had his back turned before handing those off to you...”

“You’re very kind,” he said.

Just then a truck blew by on the highway, laying on the booming brake, rocking his car.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I, ah, hit the road this morning. Just to think. Just to drive. But I suppose I’m heading home. To see my mother for a few days.”

“Everything okay?” she asked. He heard the concern in her voice, the fear that she’d be needing to tend to him trepanned and shocky, bail him out of jail. The usual.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or it will be. I really think it will be.”

“Allright Mulder,” she said after a long beat. “I’ll be holding down the fort. Drive safe. And keep in touch.”

“I will. And save me some of that paperwork, Scully.”

She laughed and hung up.

He had, in fact, visited his mother. She was glad to see him, and he stayed a few days, helped her out with some chores around the house. Got on a ladder and plucked the muck and leaves from the gutters, shifted some dusty furniture from the basement to the curb.

And he absorbed the silences of that house, his mother’s sadness, the way every possession, every exchange seemed steeped in a deep, abiding misery.

He remembered his mother different. Laughing, for example. Playing bridge with her friends, toying with her strand of pearls as she leaned in to gossip. Teasing him with a glint of joy in her eyes. Before Samantha had been taken.

It had broken her. Broken all of them. Now she ghosted around her own home, tending to her roses, watching television. Always alone. He lived much the same way. This was all that was left.

All because his father had been unable to protect them from the men he worked with, no matter how noble his intentions. The same men he had been tempted by Fowley to join up with, if he was telling the truth. Now they were reduced to ash. He had no idea what remained, but he knew he and Scully would find out.

By the time he climbed in his car to come home, he was committed to not making his father’s mistake. And to living differently. Less stubbornly solitary. To inviting some goodness into his life, no matter how strange it felt.

And last night, when it was actually happening, when he was wrapped up in bed with Scully in real life, it had been so vivid, so peculiar. As he rolled his naked frame against hers, time slowed down. In his head he heard the seconds ticking away distorted by doppler effect, whomp whomp. Felt his stiff prick slide against her buttery thigh, painfully slow. Pressed his ear to her chest. Imagined the steady squeeze and release of her heart beneath her breastbone. Heard the whoosh of her blood through her veins.

Looked up at her flushed face, this beautiful untamable breakable beast.

And he loved her.

He’d told her so.

Now he needed to show her.

Thanks for reading. Check it out at Ao3 This fic stands alone, but is also chapter 10 of Bedside Manner

[emoboijk]

107 and 118 with hobiii!!! Pleasseee!!!💕

107. “Scoot over. I wanna sit next to you.” & 118.��“Dogs don’t wear clothes!” —dog hybrid hobi x dog hybrid reader | drabble requests open

(I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be fluffy or nsfw so I just chose,,,both)(also sorry because i did not edit this) 

You don’t care what anybody says. Tiger King is good. 

You burrow further into the couch, cuddling beneath the blanket and twisting your tail so that it sits in your lap. One hand plays with the fur on it as the other presses play to start the show. 

You’re nearly through the entire season when Hobi comes in. You hear the gentle pings of the keypad outside your apartment and the whirring of the lock, and then his footsteps, pausing as he toes off his shoes before walking barefoot through the hallway. You can even hear the gentle swish of air from the steady wagging of his tail. 

“Hey babe,” he says, sliding the strap of his bag off his shoulder and putting it on the kitchen counter. Slowly, his tail lowers and dangles between his legs when he realizes you haven’t looked away from the screen. 

“Babe,” he tries again, crossing the apartment and nuzzling into your hair. He cranes his neck and noses at the scent gland beneath your ear to mark you like he always does when he comes home. 

You twist your head and reciprocate half-heartedly, mumbling a distracted, “Hey, how was work?” 

Now Hoseok’s tail is completely between his legs, lips twisting in concern. But an ear twitches when he hears: “That bitch Carole Baskin!” from the TV. He peeks up and squints at the screen for a moment. 

Oh, he thinks, that’s the show Tae was telling me about…

His eyes dart between you and the screen for another moment, just now realizing how distracted you are. “Yeah,” he says, testing the waters, “I got a face tattoo today. It just says puppy beneath my eye but I spelled it P-O-O-P-E-E. Great idea, right?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you say without looking away. 

Hoseok crossing his arms, huffing, looking around the apartment as if something there will help him. Another minute passes before he sighs and gives up, retrieving his phone from his pocket and beginning to scroll as he walks to the bedroom to change. But his tail begins to gently swing as he comes up with an idea. 

Two minutes later, and Hoseok is ignoring the goosebumps that rise on his skin as he walks from the bedroom to the living room. He is not surprised to find you still huddled on the couch, watching the TV with an amazed expression. 

Grinning (and doing a playful little hip movement that causes his dick to swing around), he steps fully into the room. “Hey,” he says cheerily, anticipating the look of surprise you’ll have. He can already see the little O shaped mouth and raised eyebrows. His tail is wagging so hard he has to step forward so as not to knock the lamp off the table (he’s learned from last time). 

“Hey.” 

His expression falls, lips forming a resilient, frustrated line. He stamps his foot and still…nothing. 

Muttering to himself lowly he crosses the room to stand by the couch, expecting you to look up any moment now. Nothing. 

“Scoot over, I want to sit next to you,” Hobi says, only the slightest irritation in his voice since you still refuse to look over. 

You shuffle to the side, relinquishing half of your blanket when he shivers and says, “Ooh, cold." 

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's—” you start to say, pausing when you feel the bare skin of his hip squished in next to you. You finally glance over at him, jaw-dropping when you see your floppy-eared boyfriend manspreading beneath the blanket, shirtless. You rub your lips together, narrowing your eyes before saying, “Jung Hoseok, are you—?” In one swift motion, you tug the blanket back from both of your bodies, gasping when you come to realize that your boyfriend is completely nude. 

He’s pleased, a small smirk on his lips, the thumping of his tail against the couch a sign of his enthusiasm. 

“Hobi! Why aren’t you wearing any clothes!” Your eyes dart between his face and his family jewels. 

He shrugs and spreads himself comfortably across the couch, “Dogs don’t wear clothes." 

He leans into your neck, sniffing at your skin before licking it sloppily. His tongue moves sloppily over your neck and jaw before he presses huge slobbery kisses all over your face. 

You giggle at his antics, shoving him away slightly and patting his head. 

His fingers grip your waist and tug you to sit in his lap, your own little doggy tail wagging happily at the attention. He noses your scent gland again, rubbing against it almost harshly in his insistence. “Finally got you to look at me,” he pouts, lips dragging slowly across your skin. 

You flush as you realize how you’ve been neglecting him, “Sorry puppy,” you whisper, stroking behind his ears and leaning down to scent him, too. “How about I give you extra attention now? To make up for it?” 

(If you choose not to read the nsfw ending just know that the “extra attention” means lots of pets and cuddling and scenting and also making his favorite dinner and possibly making out)

optional nsfw for working ending below~

Already, Hobi’s cock grows stiff against your thigh and you can hear the slapping of his tail against the back of the couch from excitement. He emits a little high pitched whine from the back of his throat, a sound he only makes when he’s over the moon excited about something (so usually for concert tickets, bags of designer clothes, and just before having sex with you). 

You nudge his scent gland with your nose one more time before sinking your teeth into it. You don’t draw any blood but the stimulation alone causes his hips to jerk upward in a sloppy thrust. You make a similar whining sound when his desperate actions hit your clit through your sweats, causing you to keen prettily into his ear. 

You lean back, trying to find some composure, “Since you’re just a dog today…doggy style?” you grin. 

Again with the tail and the wagging. 

Hoseok bends you over the back of the couch and grips the base of your tail with one hand and massaging your ass with the other. He moves the hand to swipe through your folds, fingers reappearing covered in slick. That little whine makes another appearance and your tail twitches in his hand from want of wagging. 

He rubs the slick from base to tip of his cock, grunting as he pushes it into your tight heat. He squeezes at your tail, his tail swinging through the hair so rapidly it causes a bit of a breeze. He bottoms out inside you and stays still, leaning forward to lick comfortingly at your back. 

“Faster,” you whine, trying to force your ass forward and back on his cock but to no avail. 

Hoseok grunts again, kissing your shoulder and murmuring, “Sorry.” Then he releases your tail and grips your hips, snapping into you with impressive speed. Each thrust he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in, hitting your womb with precision so that you begin to see stars nearly immediately. 

You like doggy style a lot. You like it because, according to science, this position triggers the most base animalistic instincts of hybrids. Because animals nearly always mate like this, it’s been passed down in hybrid genes to go fucking nuts when in this position. 

And, for kind, caring, considerate dog hybrid Hoseok, that means he almost completely forgets about you. Forgets about you except as a cocksleeve, something he can thrust in and out of as roughly as he wants until he cums. And that turns you on to no end. 

So when he talks it’s not really to you. He just mutters about how tight it is and warm and soft. How good his cock feels and how he’s gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum. 

“Oh,” you moan, submitting to him in every way as he pounds into your pussy, falling over the back of the couch and letting him use you. “Oh, puppy,” you pant, gripping the couch cushions as he fucking destroys you from behind. 

You’re into your second orgasm when he finally cums, thrusting even as rope after rope of cum shoots into your cunt. His hips only slow when his balls are done twitching, slowly pull out of you with a lewd noise. 

You stay bent over the couch, biting your lip as you feel semen drip down your legs. 

And then, suddenly, animal instincts all but gone, your Hobi is back. 

“Ah! Oh, sorry!” he gushes, rushing across the room and returning with a towel. You stay bent over and let him gently wipe up the semen and pull up your sweatpants. When he’s finished he wraps your arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, nuzzling and licking at your cheek. 

“Did you enjoy your treat?” you chuckle, “Mister dogs don’t wear clothes.” 

He chuckles and shrugs, “Hey, it worked.” 

(remember how this was supposed to be a drabble? and then it suddenly, poof, turned into a 1.5K…non-drabble lmao)

↠ random drabbles tag ↞

[xiezuo]

ur chanyeol A to Z was 💕💕💕💕💕 will you continue doing it? if so can u do one for baekhyun I’m curious to see how you think he’ll be

I’m so glad you enjoyed it ! 💞 And yes, I will continue doing this series as long as I get requests for it / feel like doing them. I have another request for a Sehun one, and I decided to do Doyoung (NCT), Yugyeom (GOT7) and Taehyung (BTS) on my own, so they’ll be coming shortly !

Masterpost | Rules | WIPs

(Credits go to byunvoyage for the gif)

A — Aftercare

Baekhyun’s aftercare constitutes more of him cuddling you like his life depends on it than anything else. He becomes very clingy after sex, covering your face with kisses and wrapping his limbs around your body so you can barely move. If you ask him to get you anything, he’ll most likely whine about having to leave the bed and coax you into cuddling with him for a little while before he obliges.

B — Body Part

Baekhyun’s really proud of his face as a whole. He knows he’s cute and he’ll use it to his advantage whenever he wants something from you (or anyone else). However, that can be said for his s/o as well. He’s weak for bright smiles, especially eye smiles, and you’ll have him equally whipped if you smile at him before asking him anything else.

C — Cum

If you play your cards right, it’s very easy to make him cum. Giving him a blowjob is usually the fastest way to achieve that. He comes in short spurts and if he doesn’t cum inside, it quickly becomes a whole mess.

D — Dirty Secret

Baekhyun isn’t really ashamed of anything he likes, so there are very few things he hides from you. But one of them is that he once had a dream of you pegging him, and he woke up confused and incredibly horny. That morning, as a way to try and keep that fantasy as deep inside of him as possible, he fucked you into the mattress, to try and prove himself that he wasn’t that much of a sub. He never told you why and probably never will unless he’s really, really drunk or you’re the one to bring it up first.

E — Experience

Don’t be fooled by that innocent face of his. Baekhyun knows what he’s doing. He’s not a sex god or on a porn star level, but he definitely knows how to make the experience enjoyable for the both of you. He’s never left you disappointed.

F — Favourite Position

It really depends on his mood, but he loves having you bounce on his cock while he’s sitting down on the couch. He gets a sense of pride that you can bring yourself pleasure with his body, and it also allows him to easily roam his hands everywhere and leave hickeys and love bites where he wants.

G — Goofy

This is Baekhyun we’re talking about. Does this really need explaining ? He can be serious if the mood calls for it, but most of the time, he’s just a big giggling ball of fluff, breaks character all the time, and he’s even the type to crack jokes if he feels like it.

H — Hair

Just like it typically is for asian men, Baekhyun isn’t super hairy to begin with, so I don’t think his hair is that untamed. On top of that, he strikes me as someone who would actually either shave it completely or get it waxed because he just doesn’t like having hair down there. As for his partner, I feel like he wouldn’t really care, but if he had to state a preference I’d say he’d want his partner to shave as well.

I — Intimacy

Like I said earlier, I think Baekhyun can definitely take things more seriously if the mood asks for it, i.e if you’re asking him to make love to you because you’re in desperate need of contact and to feel loved. He can definitely turn on the switch for that, but sex mostly remains light-hearted.

J — Jack Off

Baekhyun’s libido kind of depends on how busy he is. If he’s constantly running around between concerts and filming for a comeback or shooting for some company to endorse, then he probably won’t have time or even think about jerking off, because he’ll be busy all the time. And he has you if he really needs some relief. In case he’s really horny/needy and you’re not around, phone sex might be an option, and I believe that it’s the reason why he jerks off most of the time — because you’re on the other end of the line doing the same.

K — Kink

Baekhyun has a praise kink and you can fight me over it. He loves being complimented on his performance in bed in any shape or form — he likes knowing he can satisfy you, because you mean so much to him and he only wants your happiness. He likes to be told he’s doing a good job.

L — Location

I feel like Baekhyun doesn’t really care where you guys have sex, but it just so happens that when he’s in the mood, he has a tendency to just take you where you both stand as long as there aren’t any people around, like in the living room when other members are there, although if he can find a way to sneakily make you cum, he will, even if there are people around.

M — Motivation

Seeing you undress might be the hottest thing Baekhyun can ever see. He loves it when you put on a show and strip in front of him, but if you take too long he might get impatient and tore your clothes apart, just saying.

N — No

There isn’t much Baekhyun would be opposed to, unless it’s something extreme involving bodily fluids other than saliva and cum, just like Chanyeol. Overall, he’s pretty open to anything, as long as you’re both safe and it doesn’t leave permanent damage on either of your bodies.

O — Oral

Baekhyun has a preference for being on the receiving end of oral, but he’ll never expect it from you. However, like I said earlier, sucking his dick is the fastest way to make him cum. It drives him absolutely crazy when you do that, and he’ll confuse himself in a mess of whines and moans — he’ll be unable to stay quiet.

P — Pace

Baekhyun is relentless. He goes fast and deep, and it takes him a lot of self-control to slow down and be more sensual. He’s very impatient, and if you’re the one on top and you go too slow for his liking, unless he’s physically restrained, he’ll hold you by the waist and pound into you. Going slow drives him nuts in both the worst and the best way possible.

Q — Quickie

Needless to say, Baekhyun is a fan. He likes it when it goes straight to the point, and like I said, he’s very impatient. However, because your pleasure is important to him, if the situation allows it, he’ll go for a longer round 2, either a few minutes after or later on in the day.

R — Risk

Baekhyun is a little shit, and he definitely has exhibitionist tendencies. The risk of being caught gives him such a thrill, so much so that he wouldn’t be opposed to engage in sexual behaviour with you in public. He wouldn’t outright fuck you in front of people, but let’s say if you’re watching a movie with the other boys and you have a blanket covering your lap, his cock might end up inside of you and stay there to tease you for the rest of the night.

S — Stamina

I’m sorry, I love Baekhyun but… I don’t think he lasts very long in bed. He doesn’t cum embarrassingly slow, but if he’s just going for a quickie without doing anything first, he usually cums before you, and he’s lowkey a little bit ashamed of it. However, he is able to go for multiple rounds, and he recovers in about ten minutes.

T — Toy

He. Loves. Them. Whether you’re using them on him or he’s using them on you, toys are an important part of your sex life. From cuffs to vibrators to paddles, he’s always down to try new objects to spice things up, and he loves experimenting with things.

U — Unfair

Throwback to R : Baekhyun. Is a little shit. When he’s not going for quick release, he is relentless at teasing you, and he mostly does it in public when he knows you can’t do shit about it just because he likes to rile you up. Fingering you is one of his favourite things.

V — Volume

Baekhyun can be quite loud in bed, depending on what’s going on. He is very vocal though, and he talks a lot, usually to call you names if you’re into that (he’s very much into degrading you in bed) or to tease you, but he can also moan quite loud, especially when he’s cumming.

W — Wild Card

Baekhyun himself is a wild card in bed. You never know what it’s going to be. He’s the textbook definition of a switch, and he takes it further, because even if you agree at the beginning that you’re going to be the one in charge, he might decide halfway in to switch it around and make you his bitch.

X — X-Ray

I feel like Baekhyun’s dick is very average. As in, there isn’t anything special about it. It’s not big, it’s not small either, it just falls somewhere in the middle. It’s a dick and it does the job. But he’s definitely a grower rather than a shower. It’s most likely circumcised.

Y — Yearning

Like I said in the jerk off headcanons, it really depends on how busy he is. But once he’s in the mood, he’s in the mood, and nothing can take sex off his mind until he’s satisfied, and that can take a few rounds.

Z — Zzz

It takes a long time for Baekhyun to fall asleep after sex. It keeps him awake more than anything, but he’s not very talkative compared to usual. Just very cuddly. He’ll listen to you if you want to talk, but he’ll rarely respond, unless you ask him a direct question. He just likes burying his face in the crook of your neck and leave kisses there, hands trailing down your sides until you fall asleep.

[lifeofbouyd]

Tenant Affairs

Unknown at the time: Hi, can you help me fix my pipe please? I’ve been trying from morning but it’s not working.

I had watched this girl almost a year and didn’t know how to start a convo and now she wants me to fix her pipe. I wondered what kind of pipe she was talking. Could this be some kinky hook up kinda shit, or was she really in need of help? Mmmmm.

Me: Sure.

I walked in slowly behind her, taking notice of every detail. Expensive drapery hung at her windows and her air fresheners smelled like fresh roses. Her carpet was customized with her name on it and a big portrait of her hung in the wall. She had on nothing but leggings and a sport bra. Seemed as if she had been working out prior to calling me. I had bargauned for a five minutes but it turned out to be half a day of hard work. Pulling down, testing, refitting again and again. Eventually, I solved the problem and I could finally get on with my life. I was so caught up doing her plumbing I had forgotten I was to pick up my girlfriend. Thirty-six missed calls and several messages. I hadn't even cooked yet, sigh. As I was about to leave she offered me some food.

Her: Hey, I just finished cooking and I cooked enough for both of us. Are you hungry?

I hadn't eaten in about twelve hours when she asked. I'm not the kind to eat from people. ”mi no liky liky”. But what if I don't take it? She might feel offended.

Me: Mi no too nyam from people eno muma, but the food scent a gwan wid a vybz. Gimi likle bit deh. She laughed and shared it in a little plate. Muttering about men not eating from women. To be honest, it tasted even better than it looked.

Unknown: My name is Shantel by the way. I'm surprised you didn't ask. Did you already know?

Me: I figured you'd tell me at some point. I'm Bouyd from apartment 26.

We sat there chatting for about an hour before I left, staring at her big butt and stiff tits. This girl was a natural turn on. She took my number in case she ever needed assistance with anything in the future. I didn't see nor hear from her in about two months and as far as I knew, she had forgotten about me. I was chilling one evening when I saw a strange number calling. I didn't answer. I watched it while it rang about four times. I figured if it was important they would either call back or send a message. So said, so done.

Text:

Hi Boyd, Shantel here. I need a really big favor of you. My friend gave me two VIP tickets for her red carpet event this weekend. It's a couples kind of thing and my boyfriend is kind of a dick so he's not suitable for the event. I really can't go alone. Rescue me, please.

I sat there and read the message a few times. She didn't even spell my name right. Either way, the message was pretty straightforward. Just like that, I had a hot date. I kept wondering if she was kidding so I didn't know how to reply. A few minutes later she called back, asking if I had gotten her message and if I could come over. I didn't even waste a second. I made myself at home on her leather couch while she whipped us some finger food.

Shantel: You drink Hennessey right?

Me: yeah

She poured me a glass and sat right next to me. Staring me dead in the eye.

Shantel: I know you don’t know me like that, but I’d like your company to the party. You the only guy I know that Isn’t looking me right now. Can you come with me, please?

Me: As long as you can promise not to try anything fishy.

Shantel: Consider it a deal.

We sat there drinking and chatting till she fell asleep. She was so drunk she couldn’t even make it to her room. I covered her with her blanket, washed what we had used and closed the door on my way out. I couldn’t help but notice she was comfortable enough to have nothing on but a big T-shirt and her bed slippers. Her nipples were shooting at me, and her thick thighs just looked so damn sexy. I stayed up all night thinking about it. Was I sure I didn’t want her to try anything, was I really gonna let all that pass. I thought of all the ways I’d tap that ass and how I’d make her love me. I got so horny, I had to wack myself off.

She invited me over for breakfast the next morning and dinner that evening. Progress. If I didn’t know better I’d think she was looking a man. She said she wanted a date but she acted like she wanted to fuck. She asked me to follow her to get some clothes for the party, which I did. Not knowing what was to come. She threw me her keys and reclined the passenger chair in her 2014 Honda CRV sitting on twenty-twos. Not a woman kinda car if you asked me. We pulled up to store in the town and started browsing through the women section. For everything she got herself she got me something similar. Acting all girlfriendish. Asking questions like; “babe, what you think about this one, does this make my boody look big, can I get something similar for my boyfriend please?” Boyfriend, when did that happen? Mmm 🤔. I played along and humored her. I even slapped her ass a few times to sell the act. As worried as I was, she liked it. On our way home she held my hand real tight, telling me about her life and her mistake of a boyfriend. Tears ran down her cheeks as she got emotional. I felt like I had known her all my life. As soon as we got home, she drowned her feelings in a vintage bottle of vodka. She drank and cried and drank some more, spilling her guts before making bed on the floor.

Shantel: Join me, please. I know you want to.

I sat there staring at her taking her clothes off. She bit her lips and stared me in the eye. Rubbing her perfectly shaped breast. I had always wanted to see her like this. Was this a dream come through, was this the one chance I had always wanted, should I fuck the life out of her? A million Questions fired through my head. Bouyd, come join me, please. I need this.

Me: I want you too, more than you can imagine. But if I was to fuck you now, I’d just be taking advantage of you in your emotional state.

She laughed and turned her back, muttering about her pussy and how many men would kill for the opportunity. I felt like a fool even though I knew I was going the right thing. My conscience kept sticking me in the chest. Why was I a Good Samaritan to this girl? All I wanted to do before was fuck her. But now, I’m playing boyfriend, trying to treat her better than a piece of meat. Had I become a pussy from her sad story, or was I falling in love with her and not even knowing. Whatever it was, I just sat there, staring at her on the floor. Looking so peaceful. I wanted to be balls deep inside her, have her running out of breath with my every stroke. I threw her across my shoulder, making my way to her room. I tucked her in tightly and kissed her on her forehead, goodnight. By the time I could walk away she pulled me in the bed, wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me. Cold chills ran down my spine, leaving me defenseless. I had wanted to kiss her for as long as I’ve known her. Her lips tasted like lavender and felt so soft as if they were melting on mine. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me,” she said. Staring me dead in the eye and biting her lips. “Tell me you haven’t jerked off thinking about cumin deep inside my pussy.” I just laid there with my dick straining my pants. I stared at her in silence, trying to control my breathing. How’d she know I jerked off to the thought of her, was she watching me through my bathroom window at nights, or is she just assuming that I did. Either way, I still didn’t say a word. I didn’t know how to reply. What do I say? Oh my god, I want to fuck her so badly, make her cum till she forgets her name. “I want to suck your children from your back then ride your duck till you cum in my pussy,” she said. I, I, I want, I want to fuck you so bad but I don’t want to take advantage of you.

She pushed me off and grabbed me by the belt, pushing me towards the wall while rubbing her hand up and down my hot shaft. “I like this, I want this, please, please, please. At least let me suck the dang thing. I can’t send you home like this. I watched her pull my pants to my ankles and smiled at my dick straining my pants. I swallowed hard. She held me by the waist and rubbed her face against my buff. She had an ears wide smile on her face, looking as if she finally got that Christmas gift she’s always wanted. “Now Bouyd, remember, this is up to you, the ball is in your court if you want me to stop just say so.” I could hardly stand on my feet properly feeling her hot breath through my underpants. She slid it down slowly while kissing my waist, making my legs shake like leaves in the wind. “Are you nervous Bouyd, should I stop?” She stared me in deep in the eyes as she kissed my legs. Her lips melted on my burning skin. She slowly dragged her tongue up my legs till she reached my rock hard dick. “Slurp, slurp, slurp” slowly, gently, passionately she slid my dick down her throat. No hands, just her soft warm mouth sliming my dick. I sunk into the wall, watching her enjoy herself. She grabbed it with both hands and started thrusting and sucking, gagging and kissing. She moaned my name and played with my nuts. “Cum in my mouth baby, let me taste your juice.” Harder and harder she sucked and pumped my dick, causing my toes to crack and my legs to shake. Within five minutes or less the sensation got to my head. There was so much pressure built up I felt as if I was gonna explode. I’m gonna cum. “Yes baby, cum in my mouth” she replied. Staring me dead in the eyes while she sucked me dry. The closer I got to cumin, the further I climbed up the wall. No matter how hard I tried pulling her head off, she still thrust back and forth, harder and harder. It felt so good I couldn’t even help myself. The moment she pulled her mouth off it started spraying like a broken pipe. Cum in her hair, cum in her nose, cum in her mouth. Cum dripping down her face. I’ve never cum so much in my life. I threw her on the bed and dragged her pants off. I was gonna shove my dick balls deep down her hole. “Bouyd, goodnight. Thanks for the cum I needed that.” Like what the fuck, are you fucking serious right now? She brushed her teeth then tucked herself in. “You can sleep beside me if you want,” she said. Smiling as if I should be happy. I laid there on my back next to her till I fell asleep. I was way too tired to go back to my room plus I was hoping she’d wake up in the morning and want to feel my dick inside her. I woke up that morning to pancakes, orange juice, and some herbal tea. She had nothing on but her panties and a t-shirt that rested on her waist. For some odd reason, she was sexy as fuck to me. “This can be yours if you’re a good boy,” she said. “The party is later and remember you’re driving.” I watched her stroll her big ass throughout the house, bending on purpose, sitting on my lap. God, did you send this Demond to taunt me, is she gonna be like this all the time? Shit, I was losing my mind. I went back to my room to take a long, cold shower and jerk myself. I grabbed my Versace white t-shirt and mixed it with a white Polo Shorts and my brand new peach Desert Clarks that she had bought. With three chains around my neck and my iced out watch and bracelet set, I headed to her apartment to see if she was ready. She sat before her mirror, pasting and rubbing, creating a work of art. She had painted herself a brand new face. I stood there staring at her, Taking notice how her accessories complemented her outfit. I knew she was pretty, but damn, this makeup, shit. She’s a goddess, hands down. “Don’t stare too long, you might fall in love” she muttered. But that was too late. My heart has already Hers from that blow job last night, she had sucked my soul through my dick.

I picked up her friends and floated the phantom to the party. I kept staring at her from the side of my eyes, watching her bite her lips whenever she looked at me. I imagined bracing her against the steering, with her legs around me riding me till I explode inside her. This made me obviously horny. My dick stretched across my shorts, straining the zip and causing it to slide down repeatedly. “Let me fix that for you,” she said while winding my zip up. She gently rubbed her hand across my buff and kissed me on the cheek. She knew exactly what she was doing, she was in full control. Her friends kept staring at us, or was it just me that they were staring at? Hmmm, I really can’t tell. They resembled “jealousy”. We pulled up to the party looking like a real couple. Holding hands, cheek kisses, staring each other down. Shit, I had gotten so lost in the fantasy of her that I forgot we had an agreement. Just act like her boyfriend for a weekend and then it’s back to normal. She introduced me to everyone as her boyfriend, she did everything for me to feel like I was her boyfriend. She didn’t even want her friends grinding on me so she close marked me the entire time. After having a few shots of Hennessy, Courvoisier, and Patrón they were wasted. Whining like Dirt Worms. She got on her knees and rubbed her face across my buff a few times. “Do me here, fuck me, please, I beg you, make me cum on your dick” she screamed. I wanted to, and if I wasn't for the fact that I don’t like the idea of public sex we’d probably be “fucking famous” today 😂. I grabbed them some salted nuts, peanuts that is, and several bottles of water to dilute all that booze they had swallowed. I watched her caress her tits and slowly ran her tongue across her lips. It wasn’t long after that they started kissing, pulling in unwanted eyes. I grabbed them and what was left of our booze and headed for the car. Out of nowhere comes a fight between her and one of her friends. Rolling on the ground, pulling each other’s hair and screaming. I was confused, like what the fuck, what the fuck are they fighting for? “I guess it’s you,” her other friend said. Fighting for me, for what? I don’t even know her friend’s name. We pulled them apart and gave them time to calm down before speeding off. Surprising enough, they were friends by the time we got home. Again they started making out, from the couch to the bedroom. I heard them moan a few times before I was dead asleep. That’s when it hit me, they were together. That’s why they were fighting.

I woke up to an empty house. Breakfast on the table and a note that she’ll be back soon. I ran to my room for fresh clothes to take a shower at her place after devouring her cooking. I filled the tub all the way up then laid there for a while with my eyes closed, stroking my dick. I felt a kiss on my forehead, soft wet lips. I jumped the fuck up as I was frightened half to death. I hadn’t even heard her come in. “Don’t let me stop you,” she said while flashing her clothes off. I laid back just like before and continued stroking my dick until she joined me. She replaced my hands with her’s and ran wet circles around my nipples. She gave me a wet lap dance as she sucked my lips off my face. “I want to ride you, slow and steady until I cum. Don’t move” she said. She rubbed her clit against the head a few times before sliding it in, making my dick jump from all the excitement. I felt my dick piercing her tight, wet pussy every time she moved. She slowly rode the head causing me to shake each time it slid in and out. Again she sucked my lips from my face, only now rinding my dick faster. Moving from the head to half the length of my shaft. She squeezed my neck and grabbed my skin as if she wanted to rip it off. With her head hanging back and eyes rolling back in her head she screamed; “breed mi, breed mi, cum ina mi pussy please, o god, mi love yuh dick”. She squeezed my neck even harder as she came. She kept riding until she came several other times. I lifted her from the tub and placed her on the face basin. I held her by the neck and braced her against the glass as I rubbed my dick on her aroused clit. I stuck two fingers inside her and poked her hard till she begged for my dick. “Let me suck it, stick your fingers in my mouth, make me cum again, please.” I picked her up and braced her against the wall, holding her high enough to give her the full length of my rod. Like lightning, on a stormy evening I struck her, hard then slow. Bringing her right to the edge of climaxing then slowing down the pace. She moaned and cried from the pleasure she was feeling. I stood firm and held her by her legs, slowly pulling her up and down my dick hitting her G-spot. My shaft was creamed with her cum and hadn’t even cum yet. She got on her knees, spat on it and displayed her gag reflex, holding me firmly by the waist. She sucked and pumped until I was numb. My knees eventually gave way, shaking while I exploded on her face. She was worth the stress after all.

For months to come, we were inseparable. Our party weekend turned into a relationship. One I thought I’d only have in my mind. But like all my relationships prior and after that all she really wanted was some fuck until her boyfriend got back from overseas. I got so comfortable sleeping in her bed, having her over and going out I completely forgot I had her on loan. I was in an acting position soon to be revoked. I can’t even recall her talking to him on the phone now that I think about it. We slept in the same bed/s for months and her phone was always sitting on the dresser. She’d never made mention of him since we started flexing so to my knowledge he never existed. I remember her taking me out for dinner one night to a really nice restaurant to celebrate my birthday. We came home wasted and fucked till we fell asleep. I woke up to what I thought would have been a normal day, breakfast ready and a thick chick waiting for my dick before work. I did get breakfast but she was all dressed up. I felt like I forgot something important, like her birthday or something of the sort because I really suck at things like that. “Did I forget something”, I asked. She stared at me for a few seconds before saying anything. “My boyfriend lands at 3 pm in Kingston today and I’m gonna pick him up,” she said. Nervously rubbing lipstick across her lips. I didn’t know what to say. Boyfriend, mmmm, when did this happen? Is this a prank and she wants to see my reaction, could she be serious? “You’re kidding right?” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before breaking down in tears. I was furious but I was way too hungry not to eat my breakfast. But right after eating I grabbed my stuff and marched like a mad man to my room. I don’t know why I was so mad at her when she wasn’t even mine to begin with. I was always the side nigga with boyfriend benefits. But I loved her, I needed her. Or was it just her good pussy, was it the way she took my dick down her throat then rode it till I made a swamp of her pussy with my cum? Shit, now I’m confused, I can’t really choose. I blocked her the moment I got home but that only made me my sis her like crazy. I wanted to text her, see her, feel her. But god damn man, the nigga was like a roadblock. It stressed me for weeks before reality took effect. If she fucked me like that because the nigga fell short what would she do to me if I fell short? She’d do the same. She’d fuck some random nigga and swallow his kids the night before Igor home then come kiss me the next morning like everything ok. That shit made me realize that a woman will value your company only when it’s beneficial. She’ll love you like you’ve never been loved before and still have another nigga fuck her senseless. I did eventually fuck her a few times after that through her back grill (burglar bar) while he was in the house. Had her cumin like a broken pipe, only if he had known😂.

Life, you only get one. Make mistakes, create memories and cherish them because they last longer than people do.

[svtskneecaps]

Blink and You’ll Miss It - Part 6

Summary: Sanha’s been a curious shit her whole life. Jackson’s always told her she’s going to get herself killed at some point. She thought that was a bunch of bull, but he might’ve actually been right. She might be in way over her head on this one.

Featuring: A bunch of bull, a lot of cursing, merciless butchering of honorifics, and other things. Essentially, it’s a Comedy of Errors: Story Version.

Warnings: Cursing. Lots and lots of it.

First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

Masterlist

“What’s stopping him from just coming after what he wants?” Youngjae wondered aloud as they walked back to the rest of campus.

“The glamour,” Jinyoung answered, paying close attention to his footing. “He can’t sustain it if he gets too far away from the building.”

“He whines about it constantly,” Mark added.

“So what’s our plan?” Jaebum asked.

“Get some more of those magic items you guys have and go back.” Yugyeom glared at the ground as he spoke. “We can’t leave your friend behind.”

“Oh, here’s your bracelet back,” Jaebum remembered, pulling the peridot off his wrist and holding it out to her. “Thanks for. . . Sanha are you okay?”

“Hmm?” She looked up, eyes fuzzy. “Oh, yeah. Thank you.” She slid the bracelet on her wrist and returned her gaze to the ground.

“Noona, we’re going to get him back,” Youngjae said softly.

“I know. I’m just. . . strategizing.” Her hand moved to rub the ebony pendent. She’d almost said ‘worried’. “What happened while we were upstairs?”

The semi-diversion worked. “Everything was going fine, and then he suddenly went nuts.” Youngjae waved his hands as though to demonstrate, and Sanha nodded, recognizing the instance as the loud noises that had rocked the building just after finding Mark’s body. “He broke through the wall, and everything went downhill.”

“How so?”

“He put up a glamour, and we didn’t have enough charms for everyone to see around it.” Jaebum took his flower crown in his hands as he spoke, turning it around and around. “So we lost some help there. We decided maybe it would be better to take the fight outside, so we tried, but he nabbed Jackson and vanished.”

“You’ll be glad to know he about broke the demon’s nose before he went, though,” Youngjae added. The boys snickered a little, probably imagining the look on the demon’s face. Sanha noticed Yugyeom laughed a little too loud and wondered if maybe he blamed himself. She knew that feeling.

“Probably he won’t even need our help,” Jaebum reassured her.

“Yeah, for sure.” She scrambled through the fence before he could mention her tone.

They kept walking. As it turned out, fifty years held more than a few technological advancements, meaning they were explaining something they’d taken for granted with every step. Eventually, they made it back to their own building. Sanha paused at the front with her hand on the knob.

“Whose dorm?”

“Yours.”

And that was how Sanha found herself sitting awake, researching online in her bed, as they formed an impromptu sleepover in her living room.

The time on her computer read eleven pm, meaning they’d only been in the building for a couple of hours. The whole adventure felt like it had taken much longer than it actually had, so much so that she almost wondered if time was elongated in the building. Then she realized that it was functionally just building draped in a bed sheet and that it was a stupid thought.

The only sound was the steady breathing of the boys in the next room and her pencil scribbling notes. She figured Jackson wouldn’t mind if she gave away his bed for the night, so the oldest of the three had gotten it. And honestly, even if he did mind, he wasn’t exactly in a place to do anything about it. That was a semi morbid thought, but it was almost midnight. Stuff like that tended to happen.

She slid her shoes on, careful not to make noise and wake up the boys in the other room. They were down to twenty five hours; an arbitrary seeming number until you realized that it meant their deadline was midnight the next day. She wasn’t sure why he didn’t just say it outright, but maybe twenty six hours made it more dramatic, more pressing. The guy was a dick, but he did have a rather stylish flair.

Her keys clinked together happily as she grabbed them off the table next to the door, and she made a face at them. This was no time to be cheerful; she was on a mission! She glanced behind her to check if she’d woken any of the boys, and her heart sank a little as she saw one of their shapes moving around.

“Sanha?” Yugyeom’s sleepy voice reached her ears. “What are you doing?”

“Going shopping,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t.” She saw him sit up, and he joined her at the door, slipping his own shoes on. “I’ll go with you.”

She debated the merits of allowing him along for a second. She wanted to be alone, but on the other hand it would be easier to find the items with help, and besides, they’d lose their shit if they woke up and she was the only one gone. That and Yugyeom, despite looking two years younger than she was, was probably fifty years her senior, maybe more.

She shrugged. “I’m going to be hitting up antique stores.”

“Sounds fun.”

And that was that.

“So this one’s made of opal, in 1902.” Yugyeom read the information off the card in front of a ring. “The band is fake gold, apparently it belonged to the wife of some guy called Roosevelt.” His nose wrinkled as he struggled over the pronunciation of the foreign name.

“I think that’s a bunch of bull, but at least it’s opal.” Sanha took the card and checked the price. “That’s not bad.” She got the attention of the guy behind the counter, and a few minutes later they walked out with the ring on her finger. She apparently knew her metals better than he did, because the band was definitely real gold. They’d gotten a real steal with that pricing.

“So you and Jackson are pretty close, then?”

“Yeah.” She fidgeted with the ring. “It’s wild, when you really think about it. I mean, we only met first year at school, and now, you know.” She pulled her hand away from the ring and laughed. “I mean now we’re wandering abandoned buildings and other crazy dangerous stuff.”

“Are you dating?”

She blushed wildly and shook her head. “Oh hell no, no no no- he’s more like a weird older brother than anything.”

“Okay.” He laughed, a bit sheepishly. “I just wondered, because you guys share a room. How’d you manage that, if you’re not dating?”

She coughed. “The made a little mistake, in the system. And we just never bothered to correct them.” She stopped being cryptic and grinned at him. “I may have hacked it.”

“How the heck did you do that?”

“Easy, really. The superintendent might’ve forgotten to change his computer password so theoretically, I snick into his office while his secretary was busy with a student who probably wasn’t in on it and definitely just had some questions about his schedule, possibly pulled up the room assignments and may have changed a couple names.”

“Computer?” By this point Yugyeom was used to hearing words he didn’t recognize. She laughed and explained the concept as they headed for another store.

“I’ve gone on long enough. Tell me something about yourself.” Their eyes met over the glass display case they were searching. Sanha wasn’t sure if she’d crossed a line, with the look in his eyes, but he didn’t say no.

“Well,” he started. “i’m Kim Yugyeom.” He bit his lip, considering. She gave him time and picked up a card, scanning the materials list for a pair of teal earrings. He laughed nervously. “I don’t know. I’m 18, physically?” She hummed lightly. Her estimation had been pretty close to spot on. She was older than him. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to ask you questions, then, and you can find something off that?”

“That’d be nice.”

She tilted her head as she thought. “What was your best friend like?”

He made an oh noise, and she flagged down the shopkeeper while he gathered his thoughts.

“He was sweet,” he finally said. “When I first met him he was kind of cutesy and shy, but he got more confident. He could be a bit flirtatious sometimes, but it was almost a joke most of the time. Your friend Jackson kind of reminds me of him, a little bit.” She nodded, not saying anything as she paid the cashier. She’d learned over her years of being nosy that oftentimes people would add something if you waited. “We were roommates. I only met him because of school, you know? Because he was from Thailand. He speaks three languages fluently, can you believe it?”

“That’s wild,” she said in awe, scooping the earrings off the counter. “Which three?”

“Thai, Korean, and English.” Yugyeom stared into nothing, a slight smile on his face. “He told me he wanted to learn Chinese next, because Mark hyung spoke it sometimes.”

Sanha slipped the earrings into a plastic bag and tucked it into her pocket. He didn’t say anything else. “Next question?”

“Next question,” he confirmed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

She considered for a second. “Just as a housekeeping thing, should I call you oppa? Because physically, you’re younger than I am, but technically. . .”

He blushed. “I- wouldn’t mind if you did.”

She nodded. Even after living in Korea for a few years, the usage of those damn honorifics threw her off. It was all subjective social knowledge that wasn’t something they could teach a class on, and she still didn’t have a handle on it. “I’ll keep it to a minimum in public, since physically you’re younger than me, if that’s alright with you. You know, at the risk of looking like a crazy foreigner.”

“Yeah, that- that’s fine.”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She turned away from the skull sculpture on the shelf to look at him, but he looked away before she made eye contact.

“No, it’s okay.

“So. . . what was your favorite after school hobby?”

~~~~~~~

Two minutes.

“Oh no, I’m not tired. I can stay up and help you,” he’d said. Two minutes and the poor boy was out like a light. She covered him with a blanket as she left, placing a pillow under his head so his neck wouldn’t get stiff. He was so sweet, so eager to help. He understood the pain of losing a friend, but this was something she was doing on her own.

She trekked across the overgrown paths, shivering slightly as a breeze blew through the area. She hadn’t wanted to risk waking Yugyeom or tipping him off to what she was doing, so she hadn’t changed out of her pajamas. Now she was regretting that decision. They were a little light for this.

She stopped in front of the abandoned dorm building, glaring tiredly at it as it towered overhead. “So, we meet again,” she mumbled, before pushing onward.

Sanha wasn’t sure if BamBam had something set up by the door that would alert him to anyone entering, so she made sure to be ready for an attack as she pushed the door open. After a few breathless seconds, she continued onward.

She knew Jackson would flip his shit once she showed up, but this was something she had to do alone. There was no way she would risk losing any of the kids back to the demon, and she wouldn’t dream of putting Youngjae or Jaebum in danger. Besides, it was a stealth mission. No, this was something she had to do on her own.

Partners were all well and good, but sometimes it was better to fly solo.

She spun the peridot bracelet around her wrist as she tested each stair, making sure the steps wouldn’t creak before putting her full weight on them. Jinyoung had said BamBam tended to hang around the third floor, so that was exactly where she was headed.

A low thump in the distance froze her for a full minute. It could’ve been anything, the floor settling, an animal like a squirrel that had made its nest, a piece of the building pulling free and dropping to the floor, hell it could’ve been Jackson, the very thing she’d come to find, but her heart insisted it was BamBam, pacing the floor as he waited for the return of his victims.

After no sounds followed, she continued up the stairs to the third floor and stayed low as she surveyed the hallway. Most of the doors were closed, except four. One was at the end of the hall, two were across from each other in the middle, and the other was all but right next to her.

Obviously the correct one would be none of these, but it was a bit too dangerous to check the closed doors first, so the opened ones would have to do until she was ready for open conflict. That decided, she inched forward to try the first room.

It was her personal belief that nothing good is ever in the first option tried, and that continued to hold up. The first room was empty of everything except foliage, which only served to muffle her footsteps further. She appreciated that.

The middle rooms would be more difficult to check. Since they were across from each other, if she tried to check one room then anyone in the other would be able to see her. She ended up skipping those, resolving to come back. She also almost gave herself a heart attack while sneaking past them, but nothing happened so she counted herself lucky and kept going.

The room at the end didn’t have anything in it either, but the investigation wasn’t a total loss. For one, she had a second to breath, feeling less exposed than when she had been in the hallway. For another, she heard something.

It wasn’t like the music she’d heard with Jinyoung. This was definitely a physical sound, but she couldn’t place what it was or what direction it was coming from. It took five minutes too long for her to pick a direction and just walk that way.

After playing the world’s most frustrating game of Warmer / Colder, she found herself standing outside one of the closed doors, just down the hall from the middle two. That didn’t bode well, but she’d never had much of a self preservation instinct when it came to curiosity. She forced herself to turn the knob and slowly push the door open.

Nothing.

There was nothing of interest in the room.

She let out a disappointed breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Because of course there’d be nothing. She wasn’t trying to conduct an investigation or anything. Wasn’t like she wanted to find something.

In the next second, all her passive aggressive thoughts vanished as someone’s breathing echoed hers. Her fight or flight instincts broke, and she ended up freezing like a deer in headlights. The ragged sounds continued even after she had most definitely stopped breathing. Her eyes tracked the sound to the side of the room, and she noticed tracks in the dust next to a bookcase. Stepping carefully, she moved over to it, risking a couple breaths before she passed out entirely. It’d been moved a little ways to the right, a couple feet, if she had to estimate.

Behind the bookcase was a door.

Trying to get through or to the door looked like a horrible, horrible idea. Actively searching for someone who was crying never turned out okay in any work even slightly related to the horror genre, and usually the protagonist ended up dead. But this wasn’t a horror film. At least, that’s what she told herself to excuse the incredibly dumb thing she was about to do.

She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to move the bookcase out of the way quietly, but she knew the crying was coming from behind that door. Why else would the bookcase have been moved? So, gritting her teeth and bracing herself, she pushed on the side.

It moved with surprising ease, sliding across the floor with barely a sound. She wasn’t sure what kind of good deed she’d done to get this kind of good karma, but either way she wasn’t complaining. She thanked her lucky stars and grabbed the knob, swinging the door open before her luck (or her nerve) ran out.

Curled in a ball on the floor was BamBam.

[floatedtoofar]

Taking Pennywise to a GWAR show (Human looking Pennywise x Reader)

Got the idea to do this a little while back but I suck at gathering my thoughts and I actually waited for GWAR to come to my town again (saw them over the summer) for “research”. Mad props to @ruintt who has since deactivated their blog (rest in peace) I don’t know if you’re reading this but you helped a lot! Even if I didn’t use some ideas. I thought about it, I really did! I just couldn’t figure out how to make it coherent. Thank you again though, seriously!!🖤

Warnings: none really.. a lot of fake blood. If you don’t like or haven’t been to a rock or metal show this may seem nuts and excessive?? Small mention of sex at the end. This is a pretty long hc but I hope I don’t lose anyone

You explain and warn him a couple days beforehand about the energy, moshing, head banging, crowd surfing, and the like. “So people just run into each other, thrash their limbs and heads around, and act erratic on purpose?” “Sure, as long as you’re not a dick about it and you play nice with others it’s cool. The crowd surfing sucks sometimes because I always get heavy people flying over me and if I’m not holding them up myself I’m getting feet and asses to the face, but I’m sure it’s tons of fun for them. Oh, it’s going to get real messy.” He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows in question. “You’ll see. Remind me to put some towels in the car.” His head jerks back, bells jingling, and he raises an eyebrow to look at you with uncertainty, shock, and concern.

You show him what GWAR looks like. “What’s with their outfits and faces?” You point at your phone screen and explain, “Well, their official website says they’re from the deepest reaches of outer space. It’s said that long ago, the beings who would become GWAR were part of an elite fighting force, called the Scumdogs of the Universe and for eons, they served a supreme being known only as the Master, but one by one each future member of the band earned a glaring reputation for being an intergalactic fuck-up. So, they were banished, sent away on a fool’s errand to conquer an insignificant shitball floating in a dark corner of the universe; the planet Earth. Once here, GWAR shaped the face of the globe, destroying and rebuilding the natural world, and giving rise to all of human history. Aliens to some, gods and demons to others, they mated with apes to create the human race.” He scoffs and bears a look of absolute disbelief. “That’s completely ridiculous! Such human filth!” You chuckle at his response and he asks what’s so funny. “Nothing, it’s just that that’s what they call us too.”

The day of the show you get to the venue and the line is long and only gets longer and longer but you had the sense to be there earlier so it’s not too bad, but it doesn’t stop Pennywise from complaining about how you’ve been out for forever already. He’s antsy and you have to remind him to keep in check at least until you get inside.

Finally the line starts moving and you’re inside pretty fast. You get a quick lay of the land, noting all the black plastic bags covering everything like the backs of the stacks of speakers hanging from the ceiling and on the stage, the balcony that wraps all around the floor area, the sound board, and the barricades, and make a bee line for what looks like a good spot near the front, away from what you know will turn into a mosh pit (like he needs twice the excuse to completely lose it), holding his hand and dragging him behind you.

After waiting a little while the opening band starts and you bob your head and sway your hips to the music, heavier than you might normally because they were a heavier band. You can tell that Pennywise doesn’t really know what to think and do, eyes darting everywhere, does he look at the people on stage, their lightning fast hands, the multicolored lights flashing, the crowd, or you? When he does finally look at you his eyes light up and he smiles while he watches you move. You look at him, smile, and shout over the bass, “Dance!” He chuffs out a laugh and shakes his head. You laugh too and grab his sides to try to sway him. It’s not easy but he smirks and does it just a little bit to appease you. After a while you notice that he’s doing it on his own and his movements seem to be a little more sincere. You’re not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it.

The band ends their set and you turn to face Pennywise the best you can in the crowd and ask what he thought. He just nods and says he didn’t hate it. He doesn’t seem as unsure as he was before, but you think he just doesn’t want to admit that he’s having a better time than he thought he’d have.

The next band sets up their own equipment and he asks why there’s obviously a ton of stuff behind it all on stage, covered up. “That’s probably mostly GWAR’s stage props. TV screens, drums, whatever machinery they’ll use.. and a little of the third band’s things.” He knits his brows together and nods once in understanding and turns back to the stage as soon as the next band starts up.

This one isn’t as heavy as the last but there are more people in the band to fawn over and fans in the crowd are going nuts. Small pits are starting and people are shoving their way to the front as best they can, a few breaking in close to the barricades. There’s tons of shoving and squishing and while Pennywise radiates off a kind of feeling to others not to come too near, it’s hardly working at all now. He’s getting annoyed and snarls once or twice, you can barely hear it over the music but you grab his hand and squeeze in reassurance, to which he quickly glances at you, relaxes a little and squeezes back.

You both make it fine through the second band and the third has people set up their equipment for them.. or maybe they don’t because the band members come out wearing burlap masks, completely shielding all facial features. During the intermission between bands you see them wheeling in and carrying props in front of and behind the stage that look awfully GWAR-ish. Then you notice all the long tubing and some of the “roadies” arms are suspiciously red. “Oh crap”, you squeak. Pennywise whips his head to look at you and wears a look of confusion and panic. He needs to know what’s wrong and what’s making you worry. “Don’t worry, sorry it’s fine, I just realized it’s going to get double messy in here.” The band makes their introduction first by wheeling out a costumed person with a distorted, cartoon, but human mask sitting up in a kind of dentist chair, covered by a blue fleece blanket and another costumed someone who can best be described as an Indiana Jones/cowboy looking kind of guy. They do a little skit and the band comes out and shreds into their first song. The crowd goes wild as the second guy takes an (obviously styrofoam) axe to the face and half of his face comes off. He starts spurting blood immediately and soaks the crowd in seconds. Pennywise is shocked, surprised, and incredibly confused as he’s splattered right across the face and slammed with a split second of hundreds of people’s fear and excitement, but when he realizes what had happened his eyes light up and he cackles his almost clowny laugh as he loses grip on his human guise. You call his name and touch his arm to reel him back in a bit and he looks at you with wild yellow eyes and grins an almost too toothy grin. He’s giddy and can barely contain himself but at least this way the crowd bumping, thrashing, and shoving coming from the huge pit some rows behind you doesn’t bother him as much anymore. You have to admit you’re incredibly proud of him for holding it together as well as he is considering the blood (no matter how fake it is) and so many people’s varying emotions. You can’t smell all of that like he can but you can smell everyone’s already sticky, sweaty, hot bodies and that is more than enough.

Almost every song has a tiny skit between or another character on stage and more people and things (most notably a fake chicken) are dismembered and beheaded, and more blood showers the crowd. By the end of their set most people have quite a decent amount of an off red splatter all over their faces, hair, and clothes. It’s worth noting that Pennywise of course looks completely in his element. The energy is buzzing but people are tired too. Some stay and chat people up, while others leave to grab food and sit down before the final long awaited act of the night.

You’re in front of Pennywise now because he was trying to keep the crowd off of you as best as he could. He has his long arms draped over your shoulders and slumps a little over you. You have your hands on top of his and you lean into him for support. You can feel a small continuous rumble in his chest as he gently purrs in content. You’re both still too close for comfort, squished between others and you remind him again to tone it down just a little more for fear others could tell something wasn’t right. He just nods and leans down to kiss the top of your head and rest his chin there. While waiting, music plays over the sound system and a couple well known songs steal people from their conversations to sing together. It’s a little surreal and funny to see and hear all kinds of different people singing together to completely different genres than the ones you’re there for. He turns you around to face him and asks “What is this?” he says, pointing at the splatters on himself and you. “Blood” you say, obviously, hellooo. He curls his lip in contempt, sniffs his arm and snakes his tongue out to taste a bead of the off pink liquid. “Come on, I know blood and that is NOT blood.” “No, it’s colored water so it doesn’t ruin their costumes night after night. GWAR does it too.” He huffs and scrunches his nose a bit.

Ages seemed to go by and he’s getting antsy again but then the lights dim to near total darkness and with GWAR’s screens and props now uncovered, music and their introduction plays. You and Pennywise straighten up, face the stage, and people hoot and holler, and you all watch in awe. A couple of costumed guys come on stage and do a little skit about blowing up GWAR’s base and each band member save for the “lead howler” shuffles onto the stage to take their places. The lights go up and people scream louder with ear splitting whistles tossed in and the band spouts off about being pissed at the humans they helped to create blowing them up and promptly chops the heads off the two humans, then they begin to play hard, fast, and heavy. Their bodyguard, Bonesnapper bends the beheaded humans over so their necks spray copious amounts of blood everywhere and anywhere it can and everyone including you and surprisingly Penny starts to jump up, down, and around almost frantically. There’s a sort of frenzy and the music starts to sound raw, almost primal. Blöthar takes his place with his huge antlers on his back taking up a ton of space and busts out loud and gruff lyrics. After a little while the humans are shuffled off stage and the song finishes. You look at Pennywise and his eyes are lit up but he looks concerned and a little flustered, too many things are going on at once, even more so than before and people are knocking into you even harder and more often than they were. You have to tell him it’s okay and remind him to keep cool, just have fun, let lose, bump them back, “NOT THAT HARD PEN!”

GWAR plays twice as long as the band before of course and they have more of a story line and other funny and gross skits between it all. The premise of the whole thing is that the band is sold to some overbearing powerful company and they want GWAR to pump out material. The head of the company has her chest ripped off much to Penny’s delight and even Trump is skinned and used to soak everyone further. Later they bring out what they call an alien super soaker to spray the crowd in blue: “What’s the blue liquid?”, he yells over the music. “I’m not sure.. water dyed blue to exaggerate that it’s water… alien blood maybe?” He raises an eyebrow with uncertainty. “What, your blood isn’t blue?” He smirks a sly smile and says, “I’ll never tell” as he whips his head away from you with his nose upturned, then looks back at you and winks with a cheeky smile.

People are holding up white t-shirts and other clothing articles through out the show “What are they doing?“ “They’re collecting the blood and stuff so it’s like a souvenir. Something cool to remember the show by and to show off.” He grunts and you both enjoy losing it to the rest of the set. They finish and walk off stage while people cheer and scream for them. Penny looks almost sad but the house lights are still dark so you tell him to wait. You knew that head liners almost always do encores and there was at least one song they hadn’t played yet that they HAD to do still. Sure enough they come back on stage to cheers and Penny even hollers. They fire off into one of two songs and then they play a rendition of AC/DC’s If You Want Blood. The song is of course popular so everyone really goes all out and the band acts like there’s some kind of blood quota to meet and just drowns everyone in it. It’s coming from Sawborg’s arms, Blöthar’s udders, and who knows where else. It’s just EVERYWHERE. People are being brought on stage and stuffed into a huge stage prop (VIP’s? What a fun way to go) and even when the song is over you’re still getting hit with waves of blood. The band thanks everyone there, bows, leaves the stage, the lights go up, and it’s finally over. You can finally see each other properly and you laugh at the complete and utter messes you are. You and Pennywise are exhausted and running on fumes. He’d definitely have to eat before you both go home. You drag him to the merch tables to pick out something and he tugs on your sleeve and points at a white T-shirt with their faces on it. “What, you want it?” He nods enthusiastically and you laugh. “Really!? Yeah, okay!” You ask the merch guy for it and guess at a size, hoping Penny would fit in it and you get their new cd and a shirt with the tour dates and album cover on it. You thank the merch guy, hand Pennywise his shirt and make for the doors but he yells for you to stop and holds a finger up. He disappears for a second and you can just make him out in the crowd of people leaving near the stage. He starts to wipe the barricades down and quickly makes his way back to you. You raise an eyebrow and he happily cries, “Souvenir!” You laugh at his excitement and the once white shirt that is now positively red, blue, and almost as soaked as the two of you are.

You both get to the car and pull out towels to put on the seats. You’re exhausted and starving so you pull into a drive through to get yourself something to eat, face, hair, and clothes still dripping and stained. You realize how you two must look and it takes everything in you not to lose it but Pennywise doesn’t even bother, the poor girl at the window is in for a fright and when you pull up to it her face isn't hiding the shock very well. She shakily takes your money and passes the change back while Pennywise is in hysterics but the second her fear hits him he stops and you hear a rumble in his throat. You grab your food as fast as you can, thank the poor girl and peel out before he loses it. He calms down and on the way home you both recount the night. He turned out to be way more into it than you’d expected but this why you brought him to the show anyways. Aliens and blood, it’s a no brainer. You both laugh at the whole thing and he reaches out to move a chunk of drying and stuck hair from your face. "You know, you look absolutely ravishing in that color," he smirks, obviously meaning the blood spatter and drip marks now stained in your skin. You smile and roll your eyes, "In your dreams clown boy." You turn to glance at him and he's smiling at you with a distorted mouth, pointed teeth showing in all their glory. You smile, sigh dreamily, and guess that you're in for quite another exhausting but equally thrilling experience tonight.

[ddaddsprompts]

Sharp teeth. So much red; red eyes, red teeth, red blood. He’s screaming, but there’s no one there to hear him. He’s trashing, struggling, but the beast is stronger and he’s getting weaker, he’s bleeding to death, he—

The wolf tosses him aside like he weighs nothing. Like a rag doll, he slumps in on himself, unable to move. The wolf regards him calmly and with each step, the ringing in his ears gets louder, even though he can’t hear anything but his own heartbeat. Then, something pierces through the veil. A cry. No, a wail. It comes from somewhere next to him. He manages to turn his head. Something small, the wolf is heading right towards it, picks it up between its teeth, the bundle is crying, it’s—River—no— He surges forward but it’s too late, it’s snapping—

He’s running. The wind brushes through his fur like a caress and carries to him a scent that makes his mouth water, drool dropping from his teeth and onto the forest floor. He’s getting closer, he can hear its crying, his target is near. He breaks through the bushes, doesn’t care about the twigs and leaves that get caught in his fur, he only cares about the hunger that’s threatening to consume him from within. Everything is a blur. He looks into brown, large eyes as he lungs and under his paws, he crushes an animal-shaped thing without a heartbeat—

Craig woke up to screaming and only realised after a few seconds that it was him. He tore the covers off his body and ran to River’s nursery, throwing the door open with such force, it hit the wall with a loud thud. River started crying, but he couldn’t feel guilty about having woken her up, not when her complaining meant she was alive, he hadn’t… He picked her up and pressed her close to his chest. Something wet ran down his cheeks; he was crying, River was wailing, he’d never been so thankful that Briar and Hazel weren’t home before.

“Sssh,” Craig whispered. “Everything’s okay, Daddy is sorry, sweetpea, I just…” I had to make sure it was only a dream and it—I didn’t kill you.

It took him ten minutes to calm River down and get her into bed again. All the crying made her tired, so she was out like a stone the moment he put Arnold into her arms. He didn’t know for how long he stood there, just watching her sleep, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of her chest rising and sinking with every breath she took.

Still alive.

To think what could have happened, had he taken her on his jog—

Craig shook his head so hard, the wound on his neck began to burn and throb. He cursed under his breath and left River’s room. There was no way he would be able to sleep after what happened. He resigned himself to a long day tomorrow and sat down on his bed. Automatically, he reached for his phone and selected his chat with Robert. He stared at the screen for who knew how long, contemplating whether he should tell Robert of his dreams. The other man was probably already asleep and if he didn’t care about Craig’s struggle changing River’s diaper, he probably wouldn’t care about his nightmares. But there was no one else he could talk to, no one he could share it with. Maybe he should bury it deep inside his brain, like he did with all his other worries, but the horror was still so real, the fear so strong, the moment he tried to put the phone away, panic shot through him and his throat closed up. Craig gasped and closed his eyes. He counted to a random number until he could no longer not do it - He typed out a message without looking or caring for the typos.

<I jusf had a nifhtmaee abd I need to talk avout it or I might lose it>

Then he turned on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t expect an answer, so when one came after a minute, at most, he startled and nearly fell off the bed trying to get his phone.

From Robert: <r u drunk>

<i was on the verge of a panic attack, bro, i had better things to do than watch my spelling>

From Robert: <fair enough>

From Robert: <well I am>

From Robert: <drunk, I mean>

From Robert: <but not a lot>

From Robert: <anyway>

From Robert: <what’d you dream about>

<what happened. Only that>

He hesitated. Just thinking about how he would put the dream into words made him feel sick. His hands were shaking; he had to cling to his phone not to drop it.

From Robert: <only that?>

Craig took a deep breath.

<River was there. And it and then I suddenly was running and iw as so hungry and there was someone in the forest with me I attacked them it was>

From Robert: <it was river>

Minutes passed. Craig didn’t know what to say, he just stared at the screen. Suddenly, a new message popped up.

From Robert: <kid I>

From Robert: <I’m not good with emotional shit>

From Robert: <want to come over and get drunk?>

From Robert: <always helps me>

<I can’t I can’t leave her alone>

From Robert: <okay>

From Robert: <want me to come over>

<why are you even awake>

From Robert: <I’m nocturnal>

From Robert: <it’s not a werewolf thing>

From Robert: <I’m just a night person>

<that’s not healthy bro>

From Robert: <I’m not talking about health with you, you health nut>

From Robert: <do you want me to come over or not>

<you don’t have to do that bro>

From Robert: <I know>

Craig thought about it. But then he shook his head. The thought of interacting with another person made his skin crawl.

<I’ll spend the night watching river sleep. It should be fine>

Robert’s reply came three seconds later.

From Robert: <if you’re sure>

Craig didn’t reply. He got up, took his phone and a blanket, and walked back into River’s room. She was still asleep, like he had left her, and didn’t even stir as her father sat down next to the crib and settled comfortably.

He didn’t leave her until he heard Smashley’s car pull up in front of the house.

-----------------

Somehow, texting Robert became a regular thing after that.

-----------------

<Do I need a rabies shot. Do my kids need a rabies shot. Do I need to worry about rabies>

From Robert: <youre a werewolf not a dog, kid>

-----------------

<why can I no longer stand the smell of lemons>

From Robert: <it’s the citrus>

From Robert: <try holding a pepper under your nose>

From Robert: <or mothballs>

From Robert: <remember how I said your nose’s more sensitive now?>

From Robert: <rule of thumb: if a dog can’t stand it, neither can you>

<I thought I’m not a dog?>

From Robert: <smartass>

From Robert: <see if I help u again>

-----------------

From Robert: <how’s the wound healing>

<okay, I guess? I’ve never had an injury so big and deep>

<how long did yours take to heal?>

From Robert: <weeks>

From Robert: <does it itch>

<like crazy>

From Robert: <means it’s healing>

From Robert: <suck it up>

From Robert: <soon you’ll have a cool scar>

From Robert: <you can say u survived a bear attack>

From Robert: <you wrestled with a bear and won>

<me claiming to have been bitten by a werewolf is probably more believable than me having fought a bear>

<have you ever seen a bear stand on its hind legs? They’re huge>

From Robert: <true>

From Robert: <but you’re ripped>

<thanks dude>

-----------------

<saw you leave papa’s this morning>

From Robert: <and>

<at six am dude. Could have joined me on my morning run instead of heading straight home>

From Robert: <I can name a hundred things I’d rather do>

From Robert: <scratch that>

From Robert: <a thousand>

From Robert: <and spending a day with joseph and no alcohol is far above voluntarily exercising>

<ouch. no need to get out the big guns, bro>

-----------------

<is damien really a vampire?>

From Robert: <what the hell brought that up>

<I’m just curious>

From Robert: <even over the phone you’re a shitty liar>

From Robert: <spill>

From Robert: <or I’m digging through the trash, taking every used diaper I can find and throwing them in your bedroom>

<you wouldn’t>

From Robert: <yes I would>

From Robert: <it’s like you don’t even know me kid>

From Robert: <not only would I do that, but I’d install cameras to get your reaction>

<fine. I’m googling about werewolves and the like and there’s a website that says the same things as you did and has some info on vampires. I got curious>

From Robert: <no you’re not>

From Robert: <you really are aren’t you>

From Robert: <fucking hell>

From Robert: <you can’t just google shit and expect it to be the truth>

<it looks pretty solid to me>

From Robert: <because you don’t know shit>

<is damien a vampire or not>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <he loves garlic>

From Robert: <the freak>

From Robert: <wears silver too>

From Robert: <sunlight’s a dead giveaway>

From Robert: <we’re the only two monsters in maple bay pup>

From Robert: <except joseph>

From Robert: <but joseph is human>

From Robert: <he’s just a dick>

-----------------

<holy shit I can see in the dark>

From Robert: <you only noticed that now?>

From Robert: <don’t you always leave before the sun goes up>

<not when it’s so fucking cold outside dude>

From Robert: <also what did you expect>

From Robert: <werewolf>

From Robert: <wolf>

<wolves are crepuscular though>

From Robert: <well>

From Robert: <shit>

From Robert: <I’m surprised and impressed>

<Hazel is in her wolf phase, ironically>

-----------------

<your dog broke out of the house. I caught her and took her to my place>

From Robert: <she did what>

From Robert: <how>

From Robert: <I locked everything>

<don’t know, man. I just saw her chasing after a squirrel and running around on the road. Didn’t want her to get hit. Can you come pick her up?>

From Robert: <I’m away>

From Robert: <on business>

From Robert: <shit, just give her to Damien>

<Damien’s kid is allergic to dogs though>

From Robert: <fuck>

<What brand food does she get?>

From Robert: <what>

From Robert: <it’s Just Jacky>

From Robert: <why>

<I’m keeping her at mine until you’re back in town. Not a big deal, the girls always wanted a pet, that’ll give them a taste.>

From Robert: <you don’t have to do that>

From Robert: <aren’t you busy enough already>

<Don’t mention it, man. I’m glad to help.>

-----------------

From Robert: <thank you>

-----------------

<Betsy and River are best friends already! Look:>

<https://i.ytimg.com/vi/_h0AdOEErz0/maxresdefault.jpg >

From Robert: <the fuck is she wearing>

<a doggie vest. Brian and I went to the pet store and they had those. I couldn’t resist>

<if you want me to, I’ll take it off>

<robert?>

From Robert: <keep it on>

-----------------

Three days later, someone knocked on his front door. Craig rose to his feet and left the girls to play with Betsy, going to the door and opening it. He was surprised to see Robert standing there, rocking back and forth on his feet as if he was nervous. There were dark circles under his eyes, but he looked a lot better than last time Craig saw him in person, leaving a bar early in the morning.

“Hey man,” he greeted and stepped aside to let Robert in. “Here to pick up Betsy?”

Robert nodded curtly and entered. Immediately, Betsy rolled to her feet and barked excitedly. She ran over to her owner and jumped up his legs until Robert took her into his arms. From where he was standing right next to him, Craig could see the tension leave Robert’s body. Smell it, too, he realised now that the subtle note of worry was gone.

Robert turned to Craig and though he didn’t say anything, Craig could read the gratitude in his eyes. Smiling, he clasped Robert’s shoulder and shook his head, no need to thank me, man.

Briar and Hazel were keeping their distance, shuffling on their feet as if they wanted to say something but didn’t know if they should or could, while River continued playing with Arnold, who had a few teeth marks thanks to Betsy roughhousing with him. River didn’t seem to mind at all, nor did she seem bothered by the drool. Craig raised his eyebrow at his twins; they lasted half a minute before cracking. “Can we say goodbye to Betsy, Mister Small?”

The surprise crossing Robert’s face was gone as quickly as it had come. He set Betsy down and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He watched the girls sternly as they gave Betsy a few belly rubs and ear scratches, expression as serious and broody as always, but with a softness to it that Craig thought suited him well. After the twins were done with her, Betsy trotted back over to River and nudged her with her snout. The baby gurgled and wrapped her arms around the dog, who had surprising patience even though half of River’s pats landed on her eyes instead of her head.

“She’s got the patience of a saint.”

Robert huffed. “She’s a trained hunting dog. Patience was the first thing I taught her.” Suddenly, he looked down at his feet. Craig had never seen him so unsure and didn’t even think before he squeezed Robert’s shoulder again. The other man startled, but didn’t push the hand off. He cleared his throat to get the girls’ attention. “If you… if you want you can… look after her next time I’m gone.”

“Really?” Craig asked, but his question was drowned out by the twins’ cries of yes. Even River waved her arms about excitedly and gurgled.

“Thank you, Mister Small!”

Robert acknowledged them with a short nod and a small smile Craig was certain he didn’t even notice himself. He picked Betsy up again and stood there awkwardly. Craig wet his lips. “Hey, girls, could you feed River real quick? Mister Small and I have adult business to talk about.” He waited until the three were gone before turning back to Robert. “You didn’t have to offer that just because it made them happy.” Robert stared at him without blinking, which made Craig want to bear his throat at the same time as he wanted to stare back and see who caved first. “I mean…”

“I get it, kid.” Robert lowered his gaze. “I wanted to. How much do I owe you?”

“Huh?”

Robert rolled his eyes. “For the food and all.”

Craig blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing, bro. I’ll just keep it until your next trip.” Robert was staring at him again. “Really, you owe me nothing.”

Robert’s frown caused something inside of Craig to ache painfully. He looked so disbelieving and surprised, a little suspicious too. “Okay,” Robert eventually said. “Well. I better get going. See ya, kid.”

Craig watched him leave, absently rubbing his chest where his heart was.

-----------------

<I need your opinion on something>

From Robert: <shoot first ask questions later>

<what>

From Robert: <just remember that>

From Robert: <what is it>

<I found these cute onesies online but I can’t decide which one to pick>

From Robert: <…>

From Robert: <are u serious?>

From Robert: <why are you asking me that>

From Robert: <go ask sammie boy>

<can’t he’s out>

From Robert: <u woke me up just to pick out a onesie?>

<it’s four in the afternoon bro>

From Robert: <middle of the night for me>

From Robert: <I’m gonna wake u up at 3am see how you like it>

<sorry bro but one of them says I’m being raised by wolves!!>

<robert?>

<robert>

-----------------

From Robert: <u still looking for onesies>

<shit, man, where you been? you were offline for ten days or so>

From Robert: < http://images.buycostumes.com/mgen/little-wolf-infant-toddler-costume-bc-801444b.jpg?zm=1600,1600,1,0,0 >

-----------------

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <didn’t mean to send it twice>

From Robert: <I just pissed on joseph’s house>

From Robert: <third time was on purpose>

From Robert: <don’t do this at home kids>

From Robert: <or someone else’s>

From Robert: <unless they’re a dick>

<how drunk were you last night>

From Robert: <I wasn’t>

<dude did you read through what you sent me. You totally were drunk>

From Robert: < https://media1.tenor.com/images/bbcf50e44a3cdca2c660bfb5a9ea4bc9/tenor.gif?itemid=7516900 >

<what is this from>

From Robert: <I don’t know>

   <why did you send it to me?>

From Robert: <it’s a meme>

<a what>

From Robert: <oh my god>

-----------------

<I think brian’s dog doesn’t like me anymore. He barked at me and hunted me down to my house>

From Robert: <should have barked back>

<Robert! Where you been all day, dude?>

From Robert: <hunting a nuckelavee>

<a what now>

From Robert: <a nuckelavee>

From Robert: <it’s a demon>

From Robert: <lives in the water>

From Robert: <has a horse body and on top of that half a human>

From Robert: <the upper half>

From Robert: <pervert>

<never heard of it. you get it?>

From Robert: <they don’t exist, kale>

From Robert: <they aren’t real>

From Robert: <you really need a lesson in cryptozoology>

From Robert: <give me five>

<wait, why?>

From Robert: <i literally just said why>

From Robert: <pay attention craigory>

<but it’s almost midnight>

From Robert: <so?>

From Robert: <don’t tell me it’s past your bedtime already>

<i have to get up early tomorrow>

From Robert: <tomorrow’s saturday>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <no>

From Robert: <you’re not going to get up at ass-o’-clock on a saturday morning to go on a run>

<i’m pretty sure I am, bro>

From Robert: <not on my watch>

<I can’t see how you can stop me, dude. Unless you physically lie down on top of me wink face!>

From Robert: <did you just say wink face>

From Robert: <you didn’t>

From Robert: <you totally did>

<um, yeah? why?>

From Robert: <use the damn emoji, kid, what the hell>

From Robert: <who writes out an emoji>

<i don’t know how to use them>

From Robert: <of course you don’t>

From Robert: <im coming over>

-----------------

“So,” Sam says, looking at Craig over the menu of the diner they always went to after their Wednesday run. “You’ve been staring at your phone for quite some time. Is anything wrong? The girls? The softball team? The gym? Work? Smashley? Another one of your many obligations?”

“Nah, bro.” Craig waved dismissively. “I’m just texting Robert.”

Sam’s eyebrow shot up. “Robert? You mean the dark and broody, scruffy neighbour living next to the Christiansens? That Robert? Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Craig lowered his menu and fixed Sam with a confused look.

“You’re, well…” Sam gesticulates, but Craig only looks at him even more confused. “The two of you are polar opposites. I just didn’t expect you to get along so well.” Me neither. “How did that happen?”

Craig shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know, honestly? After I tripped on my jog and he helped me get home and all we kind of started ‘talking’. His humour is really great, more so during boring business meetings, once you get used to it. I was kind of put off by his hobby at first but now that I know more about it, it’s kind of fascinating.”

Sam hummed. “Well, if anyone can get you to relax, it’s got to be the guy who wakes up at five in the afternoon. Remember how we once slept for twenty hours after finals week?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Craig laughed. “I still don’t know how we survived that much caffeine and sugar.”

-----------------

From Robert: <craig>

From Robert: <craig>

From Robert: <kid>

From Robert: <craigory>

From Robert: <kale>

From Robert: <kale>

From Robert: <pup>

<jesus robert I’m in a meeting what’s wrong? Are you injured? Do you need help?>

From Robert: <look what I found online>

From Robert: < https://img.memecdn.com/arewolf-werewolf-havebeenwolf_o_4163049.jpg >

<really?>

 -----------------

<why weren’t you at the barbecue today?>

From Robert: <I was busy>

From Robert: <why>

From Robert: <you miss me?>

<shut up. Are you coming to the next?>

From Robert: <why should I>

<because I asked you to, bro?>

From Robert: <fine. If you bring me booze>

-----------------

From Robert: <and when I say booze, I don’t mean beer>

From Robert: <if you bring me a beer again>

From Robert: <I’ll burn down your magnolias>

-----------------

<they’re chrysanthemums, bro!>

-----------------

From Robert: <do you really have to jog through the neighbourhood half-naked?>

<I didn’t. I wore a tank-top.>

From Robert: <that flimsy excuse for a shirt doesn’t count>

From Robert: <it barely covered anything>

From Robert: <it certainly didn’t cover the bite>

<were you watching me bro? ;)>

From Robert: <I show him how to use emojis and he uses them against me>

From Robert: <that’s the thanks I get>

From Robert: <life is cruel>

<you’re avoiding the question dude>

<it was eleven am. I thought you never get up before four? Why were you awake anyway?>

<robert?>

<it’s none of my business bro, just ignore my question>

<robert?>

From Robert: <I had reasons>

<good enough for me. So, did you just happen to look out of the window and see me jog by?>

From Robert: <I was watching the neighbourhood>

From Robert: <looking for a cryptid>

<what’s it look like?>

From Robert: <it’s human-sized>

From Robert: <only a little bit smaller than me, if it walks upright>

From Robert: <restless>

From Robert: <incredibly strong>

From Robert: <some say it’s blood is green>

From Robert: <it rarely attacks but when it does, it only goes after healthy ones>

From Robert: <it doesn’t like fat>

From Robert: <cryptids of that species usually always carry its young but this one didn’t>

<is it dangerous?>

<robert?>

From Robert: <I just said it rarely attacks>

<why look for it then, bro? shouldn’t you search for the scary ones, like wendigos?>

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <look at that>

From Robert: <kale paid attention during my lessons>

<I wanted to pass the end-of-term exam without having to beg the teacher for extra credit>

From Robert: <damn>

From Robert: <I already had great ideas for shit I could make you do>

From Robert: <you’re a spoilsport>

<sorry, bro>

<shoot, I’ve got to go to work. talk to you later bro!>

-----------------

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <hey>

From Robert: <hey craig>

From Robert: <pup>

From Robert: <come outside>

From Robert: <don’t make me honk>

From Robert: <I will honk>

From Robert: <honking in three>

From Robert: <two>

From Robert: <one>

<give me three minutes to get dressed>

From Robert: <if it’s up to me you might as well come out naked>

<I’m not naked>

From Robert: <I know>

Craig looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes. A bright line came from somewhere outside the house and shone right through the curtain in front of the bedroom window. Craig pulled it aside and Robert waved at him from where he was perched on the hood of his old truck. Blinking against the light, Craig waved back and then pulled the curtain back, even though Robert could apparently see through it anyway.

He reached for the first shirt he could find and pulled on some pants, stumbling through the house as he tried to put on his shoes at the same time as his jacket. His muscles still seemed to remember the many times he had to do that in college, since he made it, more or less unscathed, to the front door. Robert put out his cigarette when he saw Craig and squished it under his shoe. Wordlessly, the older man jumped into his car, so Craig followed suit.

Maybe he should have asked what they were doing, where Robert was driving him, but the silence that fell on them was comfortable. After the stressful last days, packed with work, training, caring for River who caught a cold before Smash picked her and the twins up, and juggling extra hours to make up for the three days he was going to take off for full moon, silence felt heavenly.

Without even realising it, he dozed off and awoke to Robert shaking his shoulder. The hand lingered, even after Craig blinked up at him sleepily, and the warmth that seeped through the fabric of Craig’s jacket and shirt caused some of the tension in his body to melt away. Robert jerked his head and Craig unbuckled his seatbelt, joining the older man out in the cold. Before, it would have been too cold to be outside in the middle of the night, even with a jacket on, but his blood ran warmer now, so he was only shivering lightly as he followed Robert, walking around the car. He had no idea where they were, only saw the trees in front of the truck and assumed they were somewhere near the forest.

Never would he have expected the sight that presented itself to him now. Maple Bay lay below them, an ocean of lights that spread out all the way to the mountains in the distance, which were only vague shapes in the darkness. In the distance, he could see the light tower with its rotating light and above them stood the moon, nearly full, half-hidden behind a few clouds. Craig stepped into the half-circle made by the truck’s taillights and took in the scene in front of him.

Robert walked up next to him. “This is where I come to masturbate.”

Craig’s head whipped around so fast he nearly got whiplash. His face must have shown his bewilderment, because Robert broke out into laughter, laughing so hard he bent over and braced himself on his knees. Craig spluttered. “Hey, man, that’s not cool. I was enjoying the scenery and you had to go and ruin the mood.”

Far from looking sorry, Robert held up his hands and grinned. “You should have seen your face, kid. I wish I had taken a picture.” He gestured backwards to the bed of the truck and after a few moments of shaking his head fondly, Craig joined him. Robert had covered the metal with a blanket, making it at least somewhat comfortable.

Craig crossed his arms behind his head and looked up into the night sky. He watched the clouds pass above them, tried counting the stars and made it to 145 before he gave up, listened to the breeze as it rattled the leaves of the trees and said goodnight to the owners of every house whose lights turned off. Neither he nor Robert said anything. Robert, he knew, didn’t like small talk and Craig enjoyed not having to engage in it for once immensely. Up here, it almost felt like none of his worries could reach him. Work, the softball team, workout plans and sick children, all of that lay below, somewhere in between the many lights and dark, shadowy buildings. Even his phone was quiet, for once. And somehow, he didn’t feel the urge to check it every five minutes.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Robert watching him. Craig turned his head to look back; Robert didn’t as much as blink even though he’d been caught. They stared in each other’s eyes for a few moments. Then Craig broke the silence. “Why did you bring me here, dude?”

Robert didn’t reply right away. He averted his gaze and fixed it on the waves in the distance. The moon, no longer hidden, illuminated his face and made his eyes shine. “Sam showed up at my door,” Robert eventually said. “Told me you’re stressed even more than you normally are which is a miracle, frankly, because I thought that would be impossible to accomplish. He asked me to try and help you relax. So, here we are.” Robert shrugged.

“You brought me here because Sam told you to?”

The older man snorted. “Please, as if Sam could make anyone do something they don’t want to do. The kid doesn’t have it in him.”

“Then why did you listen to him?”

Robert turned to look at him again. Craig shivered under his gaze. “Because he’s right, you’re stressed. You’re wound so tight you’re going to fly next time you fucking fart.” He held up a hand and Craig snapped his mouth shut again. “Look, I get it. Full moon’s soon. I can feel it in my bones, in my blood, and I remember how it was, back when I was new to the whole thing. Like you’re going to snap and it takes all your self-control to keep from ripping someone’s head off.” The corners of his mouth twitch at Craig’s confused expression. “Not like that for you? Must have been just me, then. But, jokes aside. Going into your first shift so fucking anxious and tense won’t do you good. It’ll make for one hell of a twitchy wolf and I didn’t plan on keeping you pinned to the ground the whole fucking time.”

Just hearing Robert talk about full moon, about shifting into a wolf, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary set Craig’s nerves on fire. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and sat up, nervously rubbing his leg through his trousers.

“You going to have a panic attack, kid?”

Craig automatically shook his head, even though breathing had become painful. He hears the rustle of fabric, then Robert wraps his arm around Craig’s shoulders and shifts closer, until their thighs are pressed together. Somehow, the proximity made the knot in Craig’s throat uncurl. He took a few deep breaths and watched them rise to the sky as he exhaled. Apparently satisfied, Robert dropped his arm, but he didn’t move away again. Craig tried not to read too much into the way it made his heart skip a beat.

“You get them often?” Craig turned his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. Robert made a gesture with his hand. “Panic attacks.”

“Used to get them regularly during college, whenever my grades dipped so low, they didn’t as much brush the border between passed but barely and failed, they crashed on it head-first. After I got my act together, it only got worse.” Craig shook his head. “Took a while until I got it under control. Breathing exercises help.”

Robert didn’t say anything for some time and Craig stared at the city in front of them, trying not to think about those days too much. But then Robert broke the silence again. “What are you afraid of, kid?”

“Pardon?”

Robert gestured towards him. “You’re scared. You keep on pushing yourself over the edge. Why? What do you think’ll happen if you stop?”

Craig clutched his hands to fists and stared down into his lap. “I’m not scared. I’m just an ambitious person and a bit of a workaholic.”

Robert snorted. “You’re a shitty liar, Craig. You can’t lie to the biggest liar in all of fucking Maine. Trust me, I’ve tried.” There was a pause. “Look at me, kid.” Despite himself, Craig looked up, meeting Robert’s eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Instead of answering, Craig averted his gaze and fixed it on one of the many blurred, dark shades in the distance. If he focused long enough, he might have started seeing schemes in them, the demons in his head. “I’m-“ Craig wet his lips. “I’m scared of falling back into my old habits. I was a mess. I didn’t care about anything but partying and having fun. I ate junk food, if I ate at all, I drank more alcohol than was healthy, and I slacked on all my chores. I worked hard to turn my life around and get my shit together, to give my girls a good life, but… I’m scared that if I stop, if I relax even once, then-“ He exhaled sharply and absently rubbed his shoulders. “And even when Sam or you force me to sit down and put my feet up, I feel like…”

“Like you don’t deserve it.”

Craig’s head snapped up. Robert was looking at the ocean and the moonlight did nothing to hide the sorrow and pain in his expression. Craig tried to think of words of protest, but even if he had found any, it would be useless, shallow. He looked away from Robert again and started chewing on a fingernail nervously.

“Look, I’m not going to claim I’m the best at giving life advice. My life’s a lot shittier than yours was in college.” Robert shifted next to him, bumping their shoulders together. “But your life? It’s not going to crumble just because you take a day off every now and then. You’ve got great girls, your ex is still in the picture, you’ve got your own business and you’re in great shape. None of that is going to break apart just like that.”

Craig shook his head with a sigh. “I know. I know all that, it’s just-“

“Ever thought about smoking?” At Craig’s incredulous look, Robert shrugged. “Nicotine’s calming.”

“And deadly.”

“Not anymore, kid. You could smoke four fucking packs at once and wouldn’t get lung cancer. Same with alcohol.”

“Explains why you’re still alive.” The sentence’s out before Craig’s brain could filter his mouth. He tensed, a chorus of shit went through his head, and he opened his mouth to apologise, but Robert giggling stopped him short in his tracks.

Robert Small. Giggling. Craig’s mind kind of short-circuited.

“I’m rubbing off on you, pup.” Robert elbowed Craig’s side and grinned. “Didn’t know you could be funny.”

“Hey, I make jokes all the time.”

Robert rolled his eyes and nudged Craig until he was lying down again. “You call those jokes? You really need a lesson in comedy.” He lay down as well, close enough for their sides to be pressed together, fingers brushing.

“That comes from the man whose humour is so dry and serious, 95% of the time no one can tell whether he’s serious or not.”

The older man propped himself up with his arm and turned on his side to look at him. “I'm so many levels of irony deep that I've forgotten what humour is. You’ll get there in time. Now, go fucking relax. Didn’t bring you here for a stand-up routine. And try not to panic about nothing. You don’t have to keep on running.”

Obediently, Craig resumed his previous position and continued gazing at the city beneath them. At some point, Robert pulled out a knife and began working on a piece of wood. It’s the most relaxed Craig felt in a very long while.

-----------------

From Robert: <you ready?>

<no>

From Robert: <I didn’t ask about your anxiety>

From Robert: <or whether you feel ready>

From Robert: <work?>

<knows I can’t be reached the next three days>

From Robert: <your kids?>

<Smashley picked them up two days ago. They’re going to her parents>

From Robert: <why’s your ex called Smashley anyway>

<her name’s Ashley>

From Robert: <oh really>

From Robert: <never would have guessed>

From Robert: <thanks, sherlock>

<there are two versions of the story behind her nickname. The first: she got so drunk during a party as a sophomore once, she smashed three windows and kicked down a wall on a dare.>

From Robert: <the second?>

<had a reputation for announcing her sexual encounters the morning after by shouting ‘Just smashed’ out of the window.>

From Robert: <which one’s true?>

<neither. She accidentally got involved with a drug ring thanks to her former best friend and helped the police>

<well>

<smash it>

From Robert: <you’re bullshitting me>

<yeah, okay, you caught me. I’m just kidding>

From Robert: <don’t you dare>

From Robert: <don’t you fucking dare craigory>

<or am I>

From Robert: <fuck you kale>

[kylerfey]

Alternate universe Trekkies make a queer porno

This is a new scene that I added at the last minute into The Strange Case of Tattooed Twink (M-Brane Press, later this month). It occurs within a shared dream sequence involving the titular character and one of the other main characters who enters into a telepathic communion with him.

About 1800 words

WARNING for explicit, sloppy queer male sex

You have another memory. It doesn’t make any sense, but you can tell it’s a memory of something that happened and not just a dream. After you left the hut with the men who made your skin a canvas for words and paint, but before you found the boys and girls at the beach, you were with some other people, a sextet of twinky faggots who find you in a park when they caught you watching them hungrily while they ate curries from a street vendor. “That kid’s got some seriously insane ink!” one of the boys said. They could see almost all of it because you were naked except for your shorts.

“Come here!” he said and you approach them slowly. You couldn’t not look at their food. One of them reached into a bag and pulled out a round paper container and a spoon. “You hungry, bro?” He hands the container to you and they all watch you as you devour its contents in a few huge bites. One of the others says: “This dude would look awesome in the next show! He wouldn’t even need any make-up!”

You follow them home. They all live together in a big warehouse loft over the top of huge bookshop, and it looks like a junk yard of toys all over its vast floor. The one who gave you the food—a blond white boy with a little bit of acne on his face—is named Kyler and he tells you that he and his “troupe” are “performance artists” and that they are currently performing an “interpretive recreation” of an ancient TV show called Star Trek. They shoot live-action scenes and merge them with animation and music of their own devising. They assure you that this is awesome, the way that they are reimagining one-by-one all seventy-nine episodes of this show. 

They are currently in production on Episode #50 of their show, titled “By Any Other Name.” A short argument—one that they’d evidently had before—erupts among the group over whether it really should still be called episode #50 because they had already inserted a half dozen “original” episodes derived from fan fiction that weren’t part of the Original Seventy-Nine. But Kyler is adamant that “By Any Other Name” is still episode #50 because that’s what it was in the show’s original production order. Kyler seems to be their leader, and the others don’t press the point with him any further. He also seems to be the leader on their show because he often plays a character named Kirk who is the captain of an interstellar spaceship. 

Kyler lays out for you the premise of Episode #50: “The ship gets boarded by aliens from the Andromeda Galaxy. Most of our crew has been immobilized by condensing them into dodecahedrons.” He goes over to a table and picks up a white object that looks like a giant multi-sided die for use in a table-top roleplaying game. A “dodecahedron,” you guess. “But Spock—who is a Vulcan—figures out through telepathic contact with one of the alien’s minds that their human appearance is just a disguise and that they are actually wholly alien beings—immense creatures with many tentacles—who had to adopt human form to be able to exist on a human starship. But their new human bodies betray them! The alien scheme unwinds when the humans encourage the aliens to start feeling human sensory impressions and emotions. We think you should play one of the aliens!”

“Zero, o-rekt,” you say. “Phantom, nah.” 

One of the other dudes—a kid named Wang who plays Spock and assorted other characters in their show—thinks that it’s just fine that you can’t speak normally: “He can just say whatever he wants, and we will subtitle it! It’s perfect! It’s like he comes with his own alien language!”

Kyler takes off his shirt and steps up to you, very close. He has some zits on his chest, too, and black spirals inked around his pink nipples. “You like boys, right? Can I kiss you?” You open your mouth a little bit and let him inside it with his tongue, and his teeth clack against yours because he is really eager for the kiss. “So, in the scene I want you to do with me,” he explains, still holding you close, “you are one of the alien Kelvans who have taken over my starship. In order to awaken your new human senses, I seduce you and make love to you.”

A couple of the other boys playfully jeer this plan. “You always get all the ass, dude!” Wang says.  “Why did we ever let him be Kirk anyway?” someone else wonders.

Kyler rewords the plan rather more bluntly: “Would you let me fuck you on camera? With these guys watching us? Also, like a few million people will see it when we release the finished piece.” You feel his penis pushing against yours through his pants.

Kyler’s kind of cute and you don’t mind at all giving him some sex, and you are kind of curious to see more of this weird project that they have going on. “Zero rad na!” you say and nod. He takes this as a yes.

They give you the pages of the script with your lines, removing them from a sheaf of three-hole-punched paper bound together with brassy brads—there’s only like three or four of these lines and they are easy to memorize. Most of the dialogue on-camera, Kyler explains, is just improvised anyway. You can read your lines on the pages of the script just fine, even through when you try to speak them, it comes out like gibberish. But the Star Trek boys like this because it makes you seem more like an authentic alien, a thing from Andromeda on the brink of becoming human.

Next is costume: you are given a one-piece item of shiny and stretchy metallic fabric that covers your thighs and ass and crotch and stretches up over your torso and terminates in a thick gilded and jewel-bedazzled collar around your neck. Once on you, the fabric of this garment is rather more sheer than it at first appeared and you can see that your cock  and the shadow of your pubes are somewhat visible through it, but that’s the case also with Kyler’s costume pants, very tight and black with a pouch allowing him a lot of room for his dick-bulge. He adds a greenish-gold wraparound tunic—also skin-tight—with a glittery delta-shaped decoration over the left breast. The insignia of the starship, you guess. You both get some makeup, too. Kyler’s lips become bright pink and sparkly, his eyes shaded green, his cheeks rouged orange. You get a puff of gold dust over your whole face. 

The set for your scene is a square of the loft arrayed with some painted boxes meant to resemble storage cabinets or maybe dressers, a narrow cot on a high palette clad in a red and gold shiny blanket with a diamond print on it, a couple metal scoop-seat chairs, and the area is lit with beams from pink and green and blue spotlights depending from rafters. Little camera drones, operated by a couple of the other boys, hover and dart about. 

Kyler, as Captain Kirk, circles around you, grinning, and on his third orbit, he stops in front of you, pulls himself into you and brushes your lips with his wet mouth. “Is there some significance to this action?” you say in your incomprehensible tongue. 

Kyler says that on Earth it is considered a sign of affection. 

“Ah,” you say, “you are trying to seduce me, Captain Kirk!” 

In short order, Kyler peels away his entire costume and paws open your collar and pulls away your unitard and you embrace him naked. He lowers you onto the bed, its foil-like texture kind of rough on your back. He kneels between your ankles, raises your knees and pushes your thighs apart with his head. All you can see of him is the crown of his blond hair as he presses his lips and tongue into your asshole and wets it with a lot of hot spit. The drones move in to catch all these details. You see in the periphery of your vision that a couple of the other boys have opened their pants and are tugging on their cocks while they watch this. 

After a minute or so of eating your boypussy, Kyler reaches out a hand and one of the other guys steps into the set and hands him a tube of Stroke-Z (you figure this will be edited out of the final footage). He stands on his knees, in between your knees and lathers his long, skinny rod with the lube, smashes some of the excess off his fingers into your pucker. He lowers into the fuck and you grab his prick and help guide him in and he cries out and pushes in and sobs a little bit as he breaches your ring and slides in up to his balls. He alternately moans and laughs, his eyes streaming tears, through the whole fuck. He feels good inside you and you grip your stiff dong and stroke it, leaking preek onto your belly. He lets you know when he is going to cum, and he pulls out of your ass and squirts his cocksnot all over your dick and the tight fist that grips it, and a few seconds later you are nutting out, too, and Kyler/Kirk lowers his head to your prick and lets you spatter his oily painted face. 

Later they order a bunch of pizzas and beer and you eat and drink with them while Wang fucks around with editing the scene that you shot with Kyler. Then he shows it on a big screen. It looks like something from a real TV show! Your own performance makes you blush a little bit, but the finished scene looks a lot better than you expected. You can’t even tell how shitty and cheap bedroom set was because now it’s got a lot of electronically-added background details. The cardboard box atomic age vintage computer terminal on Kirk’s desk now has blinking lights and pulsating animated graphics on its fake screen. The completely open back of the “room” now has a wall with shelves holding old books and colorful bent-necked liquor bottles. A throbbing aetherphone musical track has been layered into it and your close-ups are gauzy and glowing as if you had radiated light from under your skin. The spunk on your belly and on Kyler’s cheeks shines like it’s made of mercury. The Star Trek boys are thrilled with their work, and they cheer and laugh and tell you did an awesome job.